


Our Words Are Quiet

by PsychoMooseSammy



Category: LazyTown, Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Big monsters, Blood, Cuts, F/F, F/M, Fae!Sorcerer!Robbie, Gen, Hey so i know thats not a thing but im not gonna follow the witcher world perfectly, I'm not experienced in tagging, I'm so sorry that I had to add major character death, M/M, Slow Burn, Sportacus gives relationship advice to his 12 year old daughter, Swords, The Witcher 3 - Freeform, Witcher AU, Witcher!Sportacus, Wounds, all around everyone cannot confess they're feelings like wtf guys, are u ready for an au no one asked for, excessive use of google translate, i just wanted robbie to have pretty wings and hover around when hes nervous, if u see potentially triggering content pls let me know so I can tag, it's minimal tho, possible future sportarobbie smut??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-10-13 09:01:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10510560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychoMooseSammy/pseuds/PsychoMooseSammy
Summary: Famed Witcher Sportacus finds a young Elf girl in the woods, who claims to have no parents. Not knowing what to do, he does what any normal Witcher would do: He takes her to Kaer Morhen to train her as a Witcheress. She's quickly excepted as family to Robbie and Íþróttaálfurinn, and a year passes where they train her to become a strangely talented child. Sportacus reaches a grim conclusion after he learns she has almost perfected teleportation. She's a source.(ON HIATUS: My laptop completely died on me suddenly and I lost A TON of writing, like, MASS AMOUNTS OF WRITING. So I'm throwing this fic on the back burner for now and I'll be paying my attention to a new, shorter, more fluffier fic that may be coming soon)





	1. Kaer Morhen

**Author's Note:**

> So it's finally happening!!! I've written a few chapters so far and this is the first fic I've ever felt truly invested in, so I built up some confidence and decided to finally post it. I hope you enjoy it, despite the strange au lol

 Kaer Morhen was a place of safety and solitude. Somewhere quiet, somewhere teeming with positivity. Witchers were few and far in between, but one was on her way. Her name was Stephanie. A girl of soft skin and pale pink hair. It wasn't uncommon for the Elves to have strange colours in their hair, but Sportacus thought it was quite strange to see pink hair on a humanoid. He loved her though, after meeting the young girl who was lost in a forest. She spoke of having no parents, and she had run away from where she used to live. It was then that he knew she was destined to be his kin, by blood or not. Stephanie was excellent in agility and balance, and did not necessarily lack strength either. She was only eleven or maybe twelve winters old, and she seemed to have a natural love for the sword. Her first time training she used only a wooden sword, almost a toy, but that was a year ago, and now she was confident with steel. Sportacus also had found, through the help of a friend, that she had magic, a strong, _strong_ , magic that neither he nor anyone else could place. His friend, a Fae and accomplished sorcerer by the name of Robbie, had wanted to train her to handle this magic properly since the moment he felt her aura. She radiated purity and yet held an air of danger to her. Stephanie was only a child, but Robbie knew that if she underwent the mutations, she would be an unstoppable killing machine. She had the potential to become a legend, not unlike Sportacus.

  
\--

  
 The mountains were as beautiful as ever. Accented by the bright sun and clouds playfully billowing between trees and around mountain peeks, the towering pines and silvery rocky slopes looked unreal. The colours were so sharp and all contrasted so greatly to one another that they appeared crafted by man. Sportacus leaned on the rough stone wall that surrounded a terrace, a couple stories up from the ground. He breathes in deeply, enjoying the crisp air of the landscape that filled his heart with joy every morning. Stephanie could be heard training diligently below, although he didn't remember her having to train that day. Maybe she had grown bored, she was quite prone to not being able to sit still. His father, Ithrottaalfurinn, joked with him about that, asking if Stephanie was _genuinely_ his daughter. Sportacus always laughed, he knew he had gone through mutations far before the girl was born. He himself almost wasn't born, in fact. Before Ithrottaalfurinn underwent mutations, he wanted to have a child, but Sportacus has never met his mother, nor has he been told much about her. She was an Elf, like him and his father, but it pained Ithro to speak of her. Sportacus assumed she was dead. He never asked.

  
 He decides to travel downstairs and outside, to train with Stephanie. Thick clouds seemed to loom in the far distance as he made it to the outer courtyard. Stephanie had a wooden sword in hand, swinging it as she did backflips. Sportacus grins "Great footwork, Stephanie!"

  
 "Thanks, Sportacus! I've been practicing my magic, too. Just like Robbie told me, wanna see?" She hopped excitedly at Sportacus' feet. Her pink hair flounced with every movement. "Of course I want to see!" He exclaimed, rustling her hair. Stephanie drops the toy sword and takes a few steps back "Okay, okay, watch this." She clenches her hands into fists and snaps her eyes shut. Then, she becomes light. Pure, pink light that dashes past Sportacus, leaving a glittering streak behind it. In her new position, ten feet or so behind Sportacus, she squeals with delight. She was so happy, which made Sportacus happy. He had no other thought in his mind than how _proud_ he was of her. "Wow, Stephanie! That was amazing! Is that what Robbie has been teaching you?"

  
 "Yeah! He's been teaching me the Signs, too, but he said that I could do a lot more than that." Sportacus quirks his mouth to the side. It's really great what Stephanie can do, but she needs balance. If she can teleport, but not cast a simple Quen shield, then he would have to bring it up with Robbie. "Let's go through the Signs then." Stephanie seems to huff only a little bit at this. Seeing it _was_ her day off, and she wanted to spend it training how she wanted. "Okay, Sportacus." She says, feigning disappointment. Sportacus laughs, which travels into his speech "We'll start with Igni, and I want you to hit me with it." Standing a good six feet from Stephanie, he casts Quen. A thunderbolt of gold wraps around his body and appears to coat him in a layer of electricity. His shield was very strong, being able to withstand Ithro's casting of Igni, so he should most definitely be fine.

  
 Stephanie, with as much force as she could muster, lunges her hand at Sportacus. A wave of fire hits him, pushing him a few steps back with admirable strength. He praises her, and they go through the other four signs. Her shield was impeccable, and everything was exactly how they should have been and better. Robbie was doing great with her. Sportacus stands at the edge of the training grounds for the next hour, just until he realizes that he should probably get Stephanie inside before it starts raining, unless she _wanted_ to be covered in mud. With a pat on the back, he makes sure she drinks plenty of water and gets lunch into her. Then maybe she could relax for a while, it's never good to exercise on a full stomach anyway.

  
 Sportacus remains in the kitchen while Stephanie eats. He could hear the rain begin to fall shortly after he had sat Stephanie down for lunch. He contemplated eating as well, but something was feeling off. He couldn't help but think about what Stephanie told him, about her training with Robbie. The way she had teleported, practically exiting reality and re-entering it, Sportacus had never seen it before. He'd seen teleportation before, Robbie could do it, but how Stephanie had done it... Sportacus crosses his arms in front of the large stone hearth they used for cooking. He was beggining to think it wasn't impossible for Stephanie to be a Source.

  
 At that strange, melancholy realization, Robbie enters the kitchen. He dawned not his usual purple and magenta striped robes, but a puffy kind of white shirt and black pants. His wonderous dark wings were exposed as well, since he had no worry of any humans seeing him. There was much detail to them. Four membranous wings protruded from his back, two large ones, and below them two slightly smaller ones. They were coloured brightly, fading from magenta to purple, a colour scheme he liked to follow. Aside from the wings, Sportacus thought he looked a bit like a pirate. "Are you going to Skellige dressed like that?" He grins. Robbie only grumbles in response, giving no real words as an answer to the teasing question. He seemed to have just woken up. "Have you seen the sugar?" He asks, rummaging through cabinets, not noticing the mild scrunch in Sportacus' nose. "I'm sure you've used it all, what with all the baking you've been doing." Robbie shot up from a cupboard with the look that made it seem one of Sportacus' eyes were dangling from it's socket "So it's gone?! _Witcher_ , how am I supposed to do _anything_ without sugar?!"

  
 "Calm down, Robbie." Sportacus laughs "You still have plenty of pastries. And it wouldn't hurt to eat some fruit once in a while. A lot of fruits are very candy-like." Robbie maintains the same look of shock and fear, he knew for a _fact_ that fruit was nothing like candy, not even close. He makes a move for some cake, ready to enjoy a nice snack. He eats in the kitchen, enjoying the comfortable silence between him and the Witcher. "Robbie," Sportacus eventually says "What have you been teaching Stephanie?" He leans back against a table, arms crossed. "Well, I've found out that she has a lot of potential, magically." He states, cake shoved into his cheek.

  
 "Do you think that she's a Source?" Sportacus blurts without letting Robbie finish his first answer. He seems confused at the sudden interuption "I- Sportacus, what are you talking about?"

  
 "You know well what I'm talking about."  His eyes morph strangely under the light of the hearth, becoming less blue and more orange. He's suddenly very silent, somehow making more noise than if he were to be singing. Robbie makes the connection. There were certain people that would love to get their disgusting hands on a Source. They would want her to drain her of her magic and use it for their own dirty plans "Listen, Sporta _flop_ ," Robbie puts down his fork and leans forward on his elbows "Even if she is a source, I doubt we have anything to worry about. Once she blooms, once her magic blooms, she is going to be even more powerful than you. If anyone wanted to kidnap her, they would have to first, go through you, then second, go through her." He finishes, smirking. Sportacus still grimaces at the thought. Surely, she was a Source. No longer did he have any doubt on the subject. No eleven year old girl manages to teleport the way Stephanie had. He sighs deeply, and soon leaves the kitchen.

  
\--

  
 Sportacus finds Ithro with Stephanie. While she finished up a hearty helping of pork he told her a story. He waved his arms about and spoke with varying tones in his voice. For the most part, he smiled widely and his words echoed off the stone bricks of Kaer Morhen. Stephanie held her fork mid lift with wide eyes. She was so entranced by the story that she had forgotten she was even eating. The hunk of meat eventually fell off of the utensil and she set it down blindly. Sportacus walks over with a smile growing ever wider. "And that, is how I slew the Vampire of Oxenfurt!" He announces, hands on his hips and a proud grin upon his face. Stephanie hadn't heard the story before, but Ithro told it everywhere he went. Sportacus must have heard it a thousand times. Occasionally, if Ithro could gather a crowd at a pub, he would stand on the table and draw his sword, reenacting his attacks and gaining both admirers and enemies. Not everyone enjoyed watching a cat-eyed mutant stand upon a table, silver sword waving about. "Dont you ever get bored of that story, pabbi?"

  
 "Just be glad I didn't do the reenactment." He pointed.

  
 "Of course I'm glad, you would have ended up cutting the table in half!"

  
 "You are still my son, I _will_ ground you." Ithro teases, sitting back down across from Stephanie. Sportacus then noticed, as his arms clanked against the wood, that he was wearing his armor. Two long swords were strapped to his back, as if he was leaving for some contract. "Are you leaving Kaer Morhen?"

  
 "Ah, well, I've got to get out sometime, spring is halfway through. Although the snow is not done melting, I think it's about time I take up some contracts around Crow's Perch. Gods know they could use the help and we could equally use the coin." Sportacus crosses his arms, a bit taken aback. Stephanie wasn't even close to being done with training, and Ithro knew far more when it came to history than he did. He still needed to be there. "But, pabbi, Stephanie still needs teaching, we need you _here_." Confusion settles deep in his brow. Ithro smiles softly "Robbie is very intelligent, moreso than he lets on. He knows much of Witcher history and can teach just as much about creatures as I can. He could be a great Witcher, if I'm to be truthful, but he refuses to do excessive exercises." Sportacus truly doubted how willing Robbie would be to teach Stephanie anything about that, it's already a chore to try and get him to give her regular lessons in magic. Despite how well they got along, Robbie _insisted_ that if he taught her any more, he would get a serious headache. "But, Afi, do you really have to go?" Stephanie fiddled with her hands in her lap, losing immediate interest in her food. "Yes, Stephanie," he spoke in a tone that erased any hint of negativity from his voice, and left only reassurance "I have to go, it is my job as a Witcher. I'm only leaving for a little while, though. I can assure you I will be back by mid-autumn, so I can get here before it begins to snow again." Ithro wintered at Kaer Morhen every year, and the last he had not left for the spring and summer because of Stephanie, so why was he so eager to leave this year? And why was he leaving in the rain? Thunder would surely start soon, and if he were to be hit by lightning...

  
 "Leave tomorrow." Sportacus blurted. Ithro raised his brow, about to say it would be better to just leave now. "If you leave tomorrow, you can be ready in the morning. It will be safer, a horse could slip on the rocks on the Trail." Ithro sighs, but happily.

  
 "Alright, I'll stay till morning. I'll also then be sure that Stephanie wakes up on time for her stretches." Stephanie was still very sad that he was leaving, but glad that she would be able to see him for the rest of the day, and also in the morning.


	2. Source

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad I'm getting a lot of positive feedback for this story, thank you all so much!!

 The sun was still beginning to rise when Stephanie woke up on her own. Her small room had very few furnishings. Like most Witchers, her bedroom was exactly that, a room with a bed. Later on, when Sportacus decides to let her start hunting, she would be able to hang the pelts of the animals on the walls. She begins her morning stretches, when a knock sounds from her door. She lets them in with a holler. "Ah, very good, Stephanie!" Her grandfather by choice praises her, as she touches her forehead to her knees while standing. "Thanks, Afi!" She pops her head up and raises her hands in the air, then remembers he's leaving. She frowns "Do you _have_ to go so soon?" Ithro smiles, his eyes softening and crinkling in the corners. "Yes, I do." He enters her room and kneels to her height, slightly shorter. "But I will be back before you know it, and when I return, I'll be back with gifts. And then, we can celebrate!" Stephanie grins, and hugs Ithro tightly. It stung in Ithro's throat that he had to leave the girl, with uncertainty on whether he would make it back or not. Now he had promised, and he was a man of his word. He would definitely return. He would return and he would teach her so many things. He would return and maybe then she would go through mutations. She releases him when she's ready. "Will you walk me to my horse, M'lady?" He holds out his hand and Stephanie takes it, giggling.

  
 Sportacus and Robbie were outside already. Stephanie was surprised to see Robbie awake so early, and knew he only woke up early for really important things. Seeing Ithro leave must have been important to him. "Are you all set?" Sportacus asks, knowing well that he was. He gets a nod and a smile as Ithro lifts himself into the horse. The sun had broken through the clouds yesterday briefly, before night fell. Most of the ground was dry now. Stephanie watches as Robbie's wings fold down against his back, like they were drooping. Although they looked like they were conveying some kind of sadness, they still shimmered like some grand masterpiece in the sunrise. Reflective, glittery, Stephanie found them to be something out of a fairy tail. But she knew that all fairy tails were real now. "Mid-autumn is when I'll return. I promise." This time, the promise is directed at his son. This would be the first time Ithro left Kaer Morhen without Sportacus. He was obviously concerned for his father, even though he surely didn't have to be. Not being at his side through his fights made him uncomfortable. What if he were to be outnumbered? Even the most powerful can be overpowered by numbers. With a final wave, Ithro's horse walks out of Kaer Morhen, and very quickly he disappears onto the Trail. The castle felt more empty already, and Stephanie could feel it's lonely affect. Robbie's wings didn't perk up for a while. They looked like purple dead leaves. 

  
 Sportacus ran with Stephanie over the castle to try and get their minds off of Ithro. They jumped around platforms of wood and climbed up crumbling walls of stone. Robbie, of course, stepped outside after a few hours to warn them to stop being idiots before one of them gets hurt. Sportacus smiles "Okay, Robbie!" Then they run the Trail next. Sportacus and many others referred to the Trail as the Killer. Stephanie was very good at running it, though. Even with the knowledge of its name. Her breathing techniques were right where they needed to be. As long as they kept up with her schedule, she would be excelling in no time.

  
\--

  
 "Sportacus!" Robbie did not wish to leave the main steps outside of the castle entrance. That would require excessive movement, but now his throat was growing hoarse with each call for the stupid Elf that went unheard. He genuinely doubted it went unheard, Witchers had phenomenal hearing. He was being ignored. His wings flitter with frustration, just barely lifting him from the ground. He hovers forward, his wings naturally stronger than his legs. Not that his legs were necessarily weak, it was more... enjoyable to fly. He knew they were somewhere in the woods, running the Trail for probably the fiftieth time that hour. It was nearing the afternoon, and Stephanie had her magic and history lessons soon. The sun was feeling particularly warm, but the clouds were frequent. Sometimes they were low enough to wrap around Kaer Morhen like fog, twisting between all the trees and billowing into the courtyard through the front gates. He reaches the main gates, and if he hadn't shot straight up, a miniature pink elf would have collided into him. "For the love of mother nature, watch it! You absolute hurricane!" Stephanie skids to a halt, kicking up dust and dirt all over the place. She's laughing, knowing how badly she had frightened the fairy, who now floated haughtily ten feet in the air. "Come down, Robbie! I'm ready for my magic lessons!"

  
 "Not until that other elf gets here! For all I know he'll be the death of me!"

  
 "I think he's saved you too many times for that." Hmph, clever girl. Either way, he still refused to come down until that blonde nightmare got back. It was maybe twenty seconds they waited, then immediately became worried. He should have been right behind Stephanie. "Wait here." He grumbled at Stephanie. She of course obeys, but not willingly. There was no reason Sportacus should be so behind, unless he encountered something. Almost screeching at Robbie himself, he hears something very dragon-like. Dragons were extinct, though, and Robbie thought to himself: _Wyvern_. His hands were suddenly encased in white light, tinted with blue that gave it an ethereal and fantastical look. He moves at top speed towards the obvious attack. He can see something in the distance, something beastly and epic, the Wyvern raises into the sky. The sunlight shimmered along its red and black scales, but as it opened its horrific maw to let out another screech, it was anything but beautiful. It's jagged, stained teeth protruded from its jaws in unnatural ways. Robbie dives head first into a small opening between the green pines, spotting a blue clad figure expertly holding a silver sword. As the Wyvern dives toward Sportacus, Robbie feels nothing but magic controlling his body. Pure chemicals racing through his veins. He dives toward the ground, and barely slows in time to land on his feet without breaking his ankles. The Wyvern approached at full speed, ready to swallow them both whole with great confidence. Robbie holds up his hands, wings raised as high as they could be to make himself larger. He lunges his hands forward, ice shooting from his palms and fingertips, all in large, sharp chunks. It tears the beast apart, crystals get lodged in its eyes and end up penetrating the brain. It lands, dead, and shakes the ground around them. Robbie turns to Sportacus, and wraps his arms around him. Sportacus responds by pulling Robbie into the tightest hug he had ever experienced. Not only was it tight, but Witcher's skin, when touched to another's, creates an intense tingling sensation. Almost feeling like he was being electrocuted, Robbie tried to free himself from the hug, even though he initiated it. "Watch the wings, you half-wit." He breathes.

  
 "Sorry, Robbie." He states blandly, returning his sword to its sheath and beginning back towards Kaer Morhen. "Not gonna take its fangs or anything? Cut its wings off to hang in your room?" Sportacus turns back, his face surprisingly blank. "I already have Wyvern wings on my wall." Robbie squints at his tone. It was monotonous. Robbie knew why, he just hated it when it happened. Sportacus never had been the most normal Witcher. There were complications during his mutations which left his eyes blue, rust coloured strands constantly moving throughout his irises like food dye when dropped into water. When he got a rush from combat, he was a completely different man. In body language, in expressions. His eyes weren't blue anymore as he got like this, they were completely orange, viper-like. This was how he would be all of the time if he were a normal Witcher. He would be borderline emotionless. Robbie crosses his arms, Stephanie hadn't seen him like this before. He's always laughs and smiles, and if he was worried he was going to be anything but that, he would avoid the girl. Robbie follows him back to Kaer Morhen, wings twitching nervously.

  
 Robbie's relieved to see Sportacus grin widely upon seeing Stephanie. "Sportacus! Are you okay?" She runs up to him, holding onto his arms and looking over his body for any kind of bump or scratch, but there was nothing. "Yes, Stephanie, I'm alright. Robbie saved me!" Although Sportacus didn't need helping, he was very grateful of the Fae.

  
 "That's amazing, Robbie! But, why was the Wyvern so close to the castle?"

  
 "Wyverns come and go, bleikur álfur. It's nothing to worry about." Robbie spoke truthfully.

  
 Stephanie responded well, knowing now that Wyverns weren't something she had to worry about. At least, not yet.

  
 "It's time for your magic lessons, Stephanie." Sportacus pats her shoulders and watches her begin to follow Robbie, who had started to walk away without a word. It depended on the kind of workload she would have that day that would determine whether or not she would be able to begin physical training again.

  
 "Alright, Stephanie, today is going to be a bit different." He's led the girl to the library, full of scrolls and books and spells. The shelves that books rested on stretched much higher than the both of them put together. "Since Ithro isn't here, I'll also be teaching you history and lore. It's not a very long chapter, but it looks like you should read about Wyverns." He taps his chin as he scans the disorganized shelves, fluttering a foot or two in the air, trying to find the right beastiary. One catches his eye, bound in dusty green leather and stamped with big letters. He grabs it and drops it in front of Stephanie. She didn't seem too eager to read, despite her repulsive eagerness to learn anything she could. She opens the book to a long page about draconids and Robbie shivers. There were illustrations that were ridiculously good, labelled and in some colour. Stephanie, without a word, starts reading. Robbie sits in a chair not too far away and quickly becomes bored with nothing to do. Eventually, he falls asleep, head resting on his arms. Stephanie's ears twitch in discovery every once in a while, though, no one can see them under her hair. It was only when Sportacus helped her bathe upon her arrival at Kaer Morhen that he discovered her pointed ears that jutted an extra inch more than a human's. Stephanie yawns, the small hand printed words tiring her. She was nearly done though, and if she just got through that bit about Wyvern tails, then... her head slowly droops forward, the warmth of a nearby small fireplace relaxing her. With one final yawn, her forehead finally rests on an image of a Wyvern's skeleton.

  
 Stephanie is woken up by someone shaking her shoulder lightly. "You both fell asleep?" She hears Sportacus ask behind her, laughing. She's understandably shocked.

  
 "Wait, not on purpose! What time is it?" She looks around, panicked. Her eyes rest on the fireplace, only embers now, and she concentrates on it through the strange blanket of sleep that rested over her eyes. "It's alright, you were only asleep for maybe twenty minutes. Did you get enough sleep last night?" Stephanie shut the book in front of her and only nodded. "Are you sure?" At this, she shook her head. "I fell asleep on time, but... I woke up and it felt like I didn't sleep at all. I had a weird dream that woke me up, too." Sportacus' ears perk up and the word Source flashes brightly in his mind. This could easily have been some kind of prophesy. Some kind of premonition, and it would be deathly important to him. Or, he could be over thinking it. "What kind of dream?" He pulls a chair from under the table and sits next to her, smiling slightly as he notices the sword she still had on her back. "I don't wanna talk about it." She mumbles. Her focus is on her hands, where they lay in her lap and she picks at her nails. "It's okay, Stephanie. Sometimes it's good to talk about things, it might make you feel better." He wouldn't normally push someone to tell him something they didn't want to say, but Stephanie was stubborn. In fact, she probably did want to talk about it, but needed that extra nudge in that direction. "Well..." She starts slowly "I was in a cave. It was really dark and I could barely see anything but then, on the other side of the cave was Ithro sitting on the ground like he was meditating. I thought I was safe, because I felt scared before. Then there was this really loud roar from behind me and a Fiend jumped over me. Ithro started fighting it, but-" She covers her mouth and lets out a very long and shaky breath. Sportacus shushed her and pulled her to his chest. He felt panic rise in him "Just deep breaths, Stephanie. It's alright, it's not real." Her back arched as she let out a particularly distressed sob. Sportacus realized he could be lying to her, it could be real, it could be completely real. His father could make it into a town and be met with a contract on a beast that's been terrorizing the people, then find it in some dark cave and lose the fight easily. Fiends are deadly creatures. Bodies the size of houses, teeth the length of arrows, sharper than, and an unrivaled rage. Not to mention their third eye, where they can control minds from. It can hypnotize its prey, and once that happens, for most, it's the end of the line.

  
 Robbie stirs in his chair, slowly opening one eye. He lifts his head from his arms, and immediately recognizes what's happening. He goes to stand, but Sportacus presses a finger to his lips, and Robbie stays where he is. His wings twitch very quickly, back and forth. Sportacus continues to rub Stephanie's back for about five minutes, when she stopped crying and the tears were reduced to sniffles. Sportacus frowns at the idea that she would be far less emotional after the mutations. No crying, but rarely any smiling either. He hoped she would retain as much of her humanity as she could. He smiles when she pulls away and looks up at him "Thank you, Sportacus. I think I feel better now."

  
 "you are welcome. Sometimes you need to cry, and it's alright to. Now, we should eat something. You must be hungry from all that running earlier, yes?" She nods and glances behind her at Robbie. He had been pretending to still be asleep, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get rid of the slight vibration through his wings. Stephanie giggles "Yeah, I'm hungry."

  
 Robbie ends up joining them, eating some kind of roll covered in icing. Sportacus couldn't place a name for it, but it had a lot of sugar in it. "Don't look at me like that." Robbie curls his lip up "You've known me for years, Sportacus. You know what Fae survive on." Sportacus smiles, he did know what Fae had to eat. They had to keep a lot of sugar in their system because their wings burn it off immediately. "A lot better than that rubbish Elves eat. All you people eat is the finest of everything. Finest meats, finest meads." Sportacus feels something, something akin to giddiness, and that something crept into the back of his mind and stayed there. He kept looking at Robbie after the Fae had turned his attention to Stephanie. She notices and looks between them, completely distracted from what Robbie was saying to her. Why was Sportacus looking at Robbie like that? Was there something on his face, or in his hair? He snaps, drawing her "Stephanie, why are you not eating? I thought you were hungry." She looks down at her plate, still full of meat and barely nibbled on strawberries. "I'm not sure... I, I thought I was hungry." She rubs her forehead as it quickly begins to ache. and her thoughts were flooded with the images of Ithro from her dream. There was so much blood, so much of his blood. Another dam cracked inside of her, and though she tried patching it with deep breaths, it broke. She broke. She begins to cry into her hands. Sportacus stands and quickly jogs around the table, kneeling next to her. Her reaches for her shoulder, but stops. She was... glowing? "Sportacus, what's happening?" Robbie stands and nearly falls as he steps back from the girl. "Stephanie?" Sportacus tries to get her attention, but now it's not working. He keeps talking, trying words of comfort "Stephanie, it's alright. Please, be quiet now, Ithro is okay. Stephanie? You need to be calm, okay?" The pinkish glow creates a forcefield-like shell around her. It becomes solid and its light becomes blinding. Sportacus addresses the shield with determination, and his eyes glaze over with a vibrant red orange. He presses a hand on it, it feels like glass, pulsing with something cold. He doesn't want to hurt Stephanie, but he has to help her. Into the shield he presses an Axii spell, and feels something crack. He calms her heart and the shield shatters, pieces dissipating before they hit the floor. Sportacus knew the shield was trying to protect her from anything worse happening to her. It was as if her magic was a sentient being apart from her.

  
 She slumps over the table, back moving up and down with her breaths. Robbie was absolutely terrified, his wings raising high above his head and his back against a stone wall. He could feel everything she had felt in that moment. It was as if his lungs had collapsed on themselves, and his throat burned and choked him. He felt dilapidated, like he had been left in the rain to rust and rot. Stephanie, he was sure, didn't feel exactly like this, but the energies that radiated from her, a pulsing aura that spilled out of her in waves. It was pure regret and longing. She was a Source. She was a Source and that meant that Ithro truly was in immediate danger. They still had time, they needed it. Something slips down his cheek, one tear, and a few more. He wipes them away quickly "Sportacus." Robbie spoke, tremors still shaking his body. Sportacus looked at him, eyes deep and orange, pupils like a viper's. "Sportacus, we have to leave. We have to go now." He was met with a glare. Never had Sportacus ever portrayed anger at him, and this was very clearly at him. "I'm not leaving Kaer Morhen with Stephanie. Not after this. She needs rest, and she needs to be trained to control these powers." He spoke low, his lip curling up into some kind of snarl. It was evident, in his primal state, that he held Stephanie far higher than Robbie. "You idiot, her powers are _why_ we need to leave! That dream wasn't just a dream, it was prophesy. Ithro is in danger. If we don't go now, he'll be torn apart and eaten alive by that Fiend!" Sportacus tears his glare away from Robbie. His face softens and his eyes lighten as he lays them upon Stephanie. He's struck abruptly with discernment. His father was in danger. He was in trouble, and he needed to save him "Saddle the horses."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot of fanart that I drew that goes along with this story, you can see it on my sideblog @weehicles on tumblr


	3. Fiend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if this chapter seems a bit choppy or sounds like I'm info dumping lol  
> anyway, I hope you enjoy!!  
> Also here comes Immi

 Now on their horses, they prepare for their journey. Of course, they had food, and they had potions and herbs tucked away in the saddle bags of Hestur, Sykur, and Vinur. Stephanie could manage in a saddle, but currently she was so exhausted she could barely hold the reins. Sportacus would hate himself if she fell, but she had insisted she ride her own horse. Her horse, Vinur, dutifully followed the other two so Stephanie wouldn't have to put as much energy into riding her. The ride was silent. Sportacus sometimes tried to spark a conversation, but Robbie's answers were short and left little space for expanding. Usually grunts or just silence and nods. They rode all day, the lack of stimulation absolutely killing Sportacus, who, instead of riding his horse at a trot like the others, jogged beside her. The sun barely seemed to move. It was beginning to hide itself behind the mountain tops. "Should we stop for the day?" Stephanie asks, her voice quiet.

  
 "We should go a bit longer. We can only afford to stop when we really have to." Sportacus nimbly jumps over rocks in his path as he speaks. Stephanie doesn't say anything else.

  
 The sky was now dark. Stars speckled the vast sky and clouds blocked the view of some. Robbie had casted a light spell earlier, and even though it was bright, they would still have to rest. They come upon a space between tall, green pine trees large enough for a camp. Sportacus sets up a fire. He sets tinder under a large collection of small sticks and snaps at its base. The snap produces a few sparks and flames cascade up the firewood. Now the silence was filled with the fire's crackles. Robbie sat next to Sportacus, a few feet between them, and still in silence. Robbie had removed his robes and armour, letting his wings sag behind him and move up and down. Stephanie had fallen asleep as soon as she pulled a sheepskin over herself in her bedroll. While Robbie stared into the fire, Sportacus watched the girl. She rested on her side, facing away from the fire and away from the camp. She was a surely lonely child. Most young Elves would want someone their own age to play with, but all Stephanie had was him. All she had was someone to train her, and though he tried to make her training out to be fun, it was still disciplinary. It was still "Parry! Pirouette! Thrust!" and no kinds of games, unless races counted. He turns his attention to something different.

  
 He watches Robbie's wings. He notices their colour and their patterns. Their slow, fluid motions were hypnotic in a way. The man was ridiculous. The fire light illuminated his sharpest features. There was a slight hallow in his cheeks and his eyes were deep within his skull. He was so expressive that seeing him now, quiet and still, so neutral. It was beautiful. He looks up at Sportacus, and Sportacus looks away, throat tightening. "You're allowed to look at them, you know."

  
 "Thank you." Sportacus answers, voice barely loud enough to be heard over the fire. Something thick stood in the air. Sportacus couldn't help but think it was his fault. "It's not."

  
 "What?"

  
 "It's not your fault, Sportacus. I'm just still tired from whatever Stephanie had been emanating."

  
 Sportacus laughs "Stay out of my head, Fae. And get some rest, we'll be leaving early tomorrow."

  
 Sportacus fell asleep quickly, but when he woke up, he wasn't sure if Robbie had fallen asleep at all. The truth was, he hadn't. He had tossed and turned all night, praying that he would just _fall asleep_. Stephanie wakes up with Sportacus and they begin morning stretches. Robbie doesn't do anything more than reaching above his head with a big yawn. Another day of travel quickly begins.  
 Robbie continued to slouch on the back of his horse and occasionally rested his face in his mane. Although soft, having his head buried in the hair of the horse made him sneeze. His wings jutted upwards under his robes with the force. "Are you all right, Robbie?" Sportacus chuckles.

  
 "Yes, yes, I'm fine." He sniffles.

  
 "If you're tired, I can carry you in my saddle. So you won't fall if you fall asleep." Stephanie smiled behind the two of them. Being fully rested, she would be glad to start up as many pointless conversations as she could. "Alright." Robbie slows Sykur to a stop and ties a rope from his reins to the back of Hestur's saddle. He climbs up behind Sportacus and slouches against his back. Sportacus hooks his arms around Robbie's so he wouldn't tilt either which way. He rests his chin on Sportacus' shoulder and was out in just a few seconds. They now pass a crack in a large granite rock, an important land mark for letting you know where Kaer Morhen is. Sportacus points it out to Stephanie, since she had only seen it once, over a year ago. A cool river of snow melt runs past it. It wasn't very deep, but it was very fast. Not to mention freezing cold.

  
 "Hey, Sportacus?" Stephanie asks as the make their way away from the river now.

  
 "Yes, Stephanie?"

  
 "Do you know anything about me? Like about real me?"

  
 Sportacus turns to see she began riding along his left side, Sykur taking up space on his right. "What do you mean?"

  
 "Well, before I came to Kaer Morhen, I didn't know anything about my magic. I didn't know I even _had_ magic. I'm just curious if you know anything else." Why did children have to be so curious? Sportacus shifts Robbie on his back, who mumbles something quietly against his neck. "I know Afi probably wouldn't want me telling you this, but you're very special. Do you know your real parents?" Stephanie carefully shakes her head "Okay, Robbie and I have been talking a bit and we believe you may be related to someone very powerful. Her name was Lara Dorren."

  
 "Lara Dorren?"

  
 "Mhm. There's an old story that goes with her. She was an elven sorceress who fell in love with a human mage, Creggenan of Lod. Their relationship was very controversial, since no Elf thought a relationship with a human was right. Elves typically think themselves much greater than humans, but humans believe that they are better than Elves. Neither race liked it. Soon they wed, but as Lara became with a child, Creggenan died. After his death, she would languish her loss upon a hill in the cold nights of winter. One night, when she gave birth upon that hill in a raging blizzard, spring came. While protecting her child with what warmth she had left, the faeinnewedd bloomed. Now, to this day, those flowers only grow in Dol Blathanna. Where Lara had taken her last breath." There was a pause "That is the story of your many greats grandparents."

  
 "They're my relatives?"

  
 "We believe so."

  
 "What about the Elder Blood? What is that?"

  
 "Stephanie, I never mentioned the Elder Blood."

  
 "I-I read it somewhere, I think." Sportacus breathes deeply. He knew she hadn't read it. She couldn't control her powers, and now she wasn't even aware she was using them. She was reading his mind without a second thought. "The Elder Blood, it's a-a complicated thing. Elven mages created it like a genetic mutation. They wanted to create a magical being more powerful than even them. Everyone who has been born from that line has powers from birth. Sometimes, nearly every time, the powers are very difficult to control."

  
 "So... Is it a bad thing?" Why did she have to ask him that? That, of all things. He stared forward, making sure they were following the proper trail through the surrounding towering pines. He twists his mouth to the side. "Stephanie. It's only bad if you make it that way. Some people call it a gift, some people call it a curse. It's like being a Witcher, some think of you as a freak, others a hero. You have to focus on the hero part to do the right thing." She doesn't say anything else.

  
\--

  
 After days of horseback travel and sleeping in the open, only protected by the cover of trees, they arrive in Crow's Perch. A fairly small but well developed town. Very few people lived there, mostly family's under the debt of the Baron. The Baron, who Sportacus had met multiple times, was a very tall, very tempermental man named Immi. He was seemingly kindhearted if you were a close friend or stayed on his good side, but in reality, he was an ill-tempered person who did not hesitate to send someone into the barn for fifty lashings. Sportacus figured that was who they should talk to first about Ithro, since he had given Sportacus most of his contracts for the area. The bridge leading to the village looked unstable, but was the only way in. Crow's Perch was elevated on a hill, surrounded by a moat and a wall made of pointed logs. Their horses make it up the inclined bridge and immediately they hear whispers. "Another Witcher? And is that a child? Goodness, that's no way for a little girl to be raised." Sportacus' grip on his reins tightened. He was doing a great job raising Stephanie, and that woman needed to mind her own business. She spoke as if she were doing any better. Sportacus keeps looking forward. They reach a gate, leading to a circle of buldings within another wall within the town. "Stop right there, who are you three?" One of the two gaurds demanded.  
 "I want to speak to the Baron. I am Sportacus, he knows me."

  
 "The Witcher?"

  
 "I don't have two swords on my back for the fun of it." The two gaurds glanced at each other before calling for the gate to be opened. The metal bars rose from the ground, clunking and creaking, and granted them access. The largest building was where they could find the Baron. Leaving their horses behind, tied to a fence, they follow Sportacus' lead up a short flight of stairs. Stephanie held tightly to the cuff of Robbie's robe, wary of the unfamiliar faces and new environment. It frightened her to leave Kaer Morhen, but she felt surprisingly calm when she went inside the Baron's place of work. It was warm and cozy, much like a regular home, but it was filled with armoured men at every corner and door. She thought this Baron must have had a good reason to have so many gaurds around. Hopefully it wasn't something they had to worry about too. They enter a room that looked like a very large office. On the far end of it was a lit fireplace, which warmed the room perfectly, and nearly parellel to the door was a desk with a man behind it. "Sportacus!" He hollered, grinning ear to ear. "Hello, Immi." Sportacus was shocked to find him hugging him, but reciprocated it either way. "It is so good to see you! It's been years! I was shocked to see your father arrive without you, but it appears you were simply a day behind. And you have brought a new friend with you? Who is this pink girl?" He crouches down to meet Stephanie, and holds out a hand. She shakes it carefully. "This is Stephanie, Witcheress in training."

  
 "Hello, Stephanie! My name is Immi, it's very nice to meet you. I am friends with your father, so no need to be afraid." Sportacus thought it almost funny that he assumed Stephanie was his kin, especially since this was his first time ever knowing of her. That was how Sportacus saw her though, and decided to not correct him. "I should tell you why I'm here." Sportacus says as Immi stands up "Ah? Is it not for a contract? Or even simply catching up?"

  
 "No, I need you to tell me where Ithrottaalfurinn is. It's very urgent, he could be in danger."

  
 "In danger? Sportacus, he's out killing a _Fiend_ right now, of course he's in a bit of danger. I'm sure he can handle it."

  
 "It's not like that this time, Immi, it's-" Sportacus cuts himself off, he didn't want to worry Stephanie more than he already had. He realized that now it was too late to be careful with his words. "If we don't find him, he's going to die. We need you to tell us where that fiend is." Immi finally understands the gravity of the situation, and locks onto Sportacus' gaze. "Do you remember the cave in which you found that Basilisk a few years back?"

  
 "Of course."

  
 "It's there. We don't know why the beast is there, but that's where it decided to take a rest, I suppose."

  
 "Stephanie, I need you to stay here, alright?" Sportacus could feel something about himself warping out of reality. Parts of his mind changing with the adrenaline that pumped through him with his blood. He held onto Stephanie's shoulders and she grabbed his bracer clad wrists as if they were a life source. She didn't want to stay with Immi. She wanted to help, she wanted to get after that Fiend herself. "Stephanie? Do you understand me? You stay here." She nods her head wordlessly. Sportacus grabbed her in a tight hug. "Afi is going to be alright, okay? Everything's going to be just fine." He hears her sniffle, and understands how she must feel. She wasn't accustomed to a Witcher lifestyle. She didn't realize yet that the life of a Witcher was long and hard, and none have yet to die of old age. Every Witcher died at the maw of a beast, the claw of a Werewolf, the poisoned tail of an Endrega. And sometimes, possibly this time, the unforgiving appetite of a Fiend. Sportacus stands up and gets very close to Immi's face "Don't let her out of your sight. If something happens to her, it is on you." He speaks sharply. Immi nods, his toes wiggling nervously in his boots. "I'll keep a very close eye on her." Sportacus turns without another word, waving for Robbie to follow him.

  
 They walk in silence, but Robbie's mind was racing. What if they found Ithro in that cave, already torn to bits, and the Fiend gone? He wouldn't want to see Sportacus in mourning, he already knew how he was when he couldn't save someone in time. Having it be his father? He was sure he would end up burning down Kaer Morhen, then himself. A strange, shrieking roar grabbed their attention, and Sportacus took off running. Robbie's hands tense as he runs just a foot behind him, they begin glowing in a muddled combination of red and blue magic. It felt like he was truly having to force it out, because his fight or flight responses were telling him to fly.

  
 Sportacus skidded to a halt at the cave entrance, catching himself with one hand and using all of his strength to lunge forward into another sprint, straight into the cave. Robbie was sure he would fall as he unwillingly mimicked his actions, but he did not. Instead he ended up kicking up blades of grass and dry dirt that stuck to his boots like glue. They were met with a beast of alarming size. With matted fur and twisted teeth, and antlers the height of a horse. It towered above them but the fear that stabbed Sportacus in the chest wasn't winning. He doubted it ever would. He draws his sword with a single swing of his arm, and as the Fiend lunges, he spots his father. He dodges with a roll only just in time, and Robbie takes the opportunity to send fire its way. The cave illuminates brightly, fire illuminating the damp walls and floors, and the stalactites dripping from the ceiling. The Fiend shrieks in the most hideous manner, stomping its claws into the stone "Pabbi! Run!" Sportacus keeps the monster's attention on him, bringing it to the opposite end of the cave. Ithro only grips his sword tighter, and makes for the beast's back legs. He gets a few good slashes in before having to jump out of the way of a defensive kick. "Go! If you stay, you'll die!" Sportacus didn't have time to explain anything. He could only shout and hope to have been heard over the roars of the Fiend. Robbie hits it again with a blast of fire, and it's fur catches aflame. It's mane now seems to be made of fire as it lunges for Sportacus. He jumps to the side and lands a few good slashes, but not enough to do it damage. It collides with the wall and a loud crack echoes around them. One of its antlers had broken, and clattered on the ground like a broken dish. It stood still in a daze, looking down at its antler in confusion. It quickly whips around though as Ithro runs up on it. The heat of the fire finally catching up with it, it sprints forward. The fear of dying was evident in its desperate screeches and failed attempts at scratching the fire off of itself. The Fiend, in its frightened frenzy, knocks Ithro roughly into a wall, knocking him unconscious. Sportacus swallows his heart down in fear of the worst. In fear that Stephanie's prophesy had come true. He lashes forward at the Fiend, but he couldn't get a good hit on it with it flailing like it was. He feels a burning on his arm, and expecting fire, he's shocked to find a claw tore right through a weak point in his armour and left a bleeding gash. Robbie finds he can finish the beast off, and casts an ice spell. Just one well aimed arrow of ice and he can- he fires, the air around him becoming a freezing temperature, and the orange light is taken over by the blue. Jagged spikes stab into the fiend and encase the fire. The creature curls in on itself, its cries silent now, and it closes its eyes. If it were still alive, it wouldn't be for very long. Within a few seconds, its chest stops moving. Sportacus sheaths his sword and drops to his knees to check his father's pulse. It was steady and strong, like a Witcher's should be. He sighs heavily and rests his forehead on his father's chest. He feels a hand on his shoulder and the pressure of a body on his back. "We need to stop the bleeding." Robbie's voice shook. Sportacus was unsure why, until he finally realized that the fight had probably affected him differently. He sits up giving Robbie his arm. "This won't heal it completely but I'll do what I can." He waves a hand over the cut and the edges of the flesh meld back together, leaving a rough and sore scar in its glowing wake. Sportacus works one arm under Ithro's knees and the other behind his back "Be careful, the magic works like stitches, don't over exert yourself." Sportacus grunts as he lifts Ithro, readjusting him comfortably in his arms. "I'll be alright, Robbie. We should get back to Stephanie."

  
 "Right."

  
 By the time they got back, Sportacus was struggling greatly to keep Ithro up, who had just begun to stir when he got to an empty bedroom. With great relief he sets Ithro down on the bed, which looked very soft. Immi, of course, lived in luxury. He told Robbie to get Stephanie and tell her everything was alright. Less than a minute of sitting down went by until he heard tiny footsteps running towards him. Stephanie slams into him and wraps her arms around him as tightly as they'll go. Every single bit of stress seemed to melt away when they made contact. All of his muscles relaxed, and his heart calmed. Robbie stood in the doorway, hesitant to come closer. Just moments ago she had hugged Robbie just as tightly.

  
 Her eyes fall on Ithro, and she sits next to him on the floor. She holds his hand gingerly, despite it being rough, scarred, and calloused. She wondered if her hands would be like that one day. She had small hands now, but they had callouses too. Would her hands be as big as Ithro's when she grew up. She hoped for it.

  
\--

  
 It took Ithrottaalfurin hours to wake up. Sportacus was forced to stay awake far past sundown and Stephanie refused to leave Ithro's side. Robbie didn't feel so tired, but was growing bored sitting at the foot of a bed of an unconscious man. He smiled as he saw Stephanie's head lilt forward. Though he hated children and how loud and immature they were, Stephanie was a well behaved kid. And quite adorable. She's fallen asleep on Ithro's arm, legs crossed underneath her. Sportacus, in a wooden chair that creaked at the slightest motion, was also on the edge of falling asleep. His eyes were lidded and Robbie was sure he had completely zoned out of his environment. Ithro would have scolded him about it were he awake "A Witcher is always aware of their surroundings!" He would say. Robbie laughs, only in the form of a slight smile and a huff. He rubs at his eyes, regretting it immediately as he looks down at the purple smudges on his hands. "Sportacus." He says, trying to grab the Elf's attention. It doesn't work, he only stares at the wall. "Hey, Elf." He snaps in front of his face, causing him to jump. "Yes, Robbie?" He says, although quite wistfully. "You should go get some sleep, I can wake you up when Ithro awakens."

  
 "I'll be alright." Sportacus presses his palms into his eyes and let's out a very long yawn.

  
 "No, you won't. You're about ready to collapse. Come on, up you go." He lifts Sportacus by the arm and practically drags him to the bedroom they were supposed to be sleeping in. He was still in his armour, and Robbie sighed heavily as he knew he was the one who was going to have to take it off. Sportacus had long fallen asleep now, as Robbie begins undoing buckles. He had no patience and simply tossed the heavy dyed leather to the floor instead of finding a place to actually store it. He leaves his hat on a bedside table though. Robbie sat with him for a while, on the bed with his legs crossed. He rested his hand on the new scar on Sportacus' arm. Wearing a cloth undershirt, all of his scars and bruises were out in the open. He casts a gentle healing spell, one that wouldn't wake him up. The scars stay put but the bruises fade away, leaving no evidence of their existence in their wake. He hated the stubbornness of scars, but he couldn't heal what was already healed. He sighs, and returns to Ithro's bedside, smiling again as he saw that Stephanie had climbed onto the bed and curled up at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've gotten a bit stuck on chapter 4, but it should be coming up soon since spring break will be this Thursday. I'll have plenty of time to write!!  
> I've also planned out the plot a bit better and I think I've got a great ending and a few chunks in between, but that's it so far haha


	4. Gargoyles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi this is a super short chapter  
> its also unedited and choppy and lame and the dialogue probably sounds like garbage  
> enjoy

 In the morning, Ithro had finally woken up. He moved a little bit, then a bit more, then opened his eyes. "Robbie? Robbie, what happened?" Ithro doesn't think of it, but he quickly holds Stephanie closer to him, seeing her as the most familiar and comforting thing in his vicinity. There's suddenly a very painful heat in the back of his head. "Ithrottaalfurin, I think it's best if you lie back down, I can tell you everything, just remain calm." Stephanie was awake now, but decided against saying anything. Ithro felt tense to her, and on edge.

  
 "Do you remember the Fiend?" Ithro nods in response. "Okay, that's good. Do you remember the fight?" To this he strains to answer, wanting to remember, but the pain throbbing in his skull wouldn't let him. "No, I don't. I remember meditating in the cave, waiting for it. And I remember when you and Sportacus got there, then... Then I'm not sure." Robbie nods with sympathy "I'll go get Sportacus, alright?"

  
 "Alright." As Robbie left the room, Stephanie sat up straight and turned so she could face him. She thought about saying something, but instead latched onto him in a big hug. He reciprocates it. She reaches up behind his head, and for a heartbeat a pink volt crackled between her hand and Ithro. The pain that radiated throughout his head stopped, and his mind was filled with scenes from the fight. It was like he was suddenly remembering a dream, a very vivid dream. Ithro looked down at her with curiosity. His brows scrunch together as he thought. Did she even realize what she did? Sportacus enters the room, and upon seeing Ithro's face, he seems to mimic it perfectly. He was confused as to why Ithro was confused, and why it was aimed at Stephanie. She lets go of Ithro and they sit side by side, Stephanie waiting anxiously for Sportacus to tell them what happened, and Ithro staying quiet about the fact that he now remembered "Pabbi, you're all right." Sportacus sighs.

  
 "Bah, of course I'm all right. Takes more than a Fiend to take down a Witcher."

  
 "I should tell you what happened then, Robbie said you didn't remember much." He then takes a seat in the creaking wooden chair, Robbie next to him.

  
 "The Fiend is dead now, thanks to Robbie. But what happened was its fur had caught fire, and it had started panicking, and threw you into the wall. I'm, actually shocked that you're not bleeding or in a coma, but I am grateful." Sportacus pulls up his short sleeve, the only half revealed scar being completely exposed. "I was not so lucky, Robbie did what he could but it still hurts. I'll need my armour repaired and I won't be able to wear my left sleeve until this is fully healed."

  
 "That's a shame. I'm sure Immi will be able to arrange that for you. He likes you." Ithro said with a lilt in his voice that left Sportacus unsure what he meant. "Either way, Sportacus, I'd like to talk to you and Robbie, privately." Sportacus goes to tug at his hat in worry, but quickly realizes it was not there, and his face begins to heat up as he panics at the thought of all the gaurds he walked passed in the halls. Surely, if they cared, they would have said something, right? Most do who see his ears. "Of course, Stephanie, will you go wait in Immi's study? Tell him we had to have an adult conversation, okay?" Stephanie hops down from the bed "Okay, Sportacus." Sportacus frowns, watching her walk out of the room. She absolutely despised when they kept secrets from her, but if Ithro wanted it to be private, and just between them, then that's just how it would have to be.

  
 "How did you know? How did you know where I was, and why did you say I was going to die in that cave?" Ithro's tone was stern.

  
 "The Elder Blood." Sportacus sputters.

  
 "The what?" Ithro eyes the two of them warrily.

  
 "The Elder Blood, Stephanie has it. She- she had a vision of you dying. That's how we knew we had to come to Velen."

  
 "How long have you known? The both of you?"

  
 "It's only been since you left, I'm sorry. I would have told you had I known sooner, I swear." Ithro places his hand on his knee and leans forward, nodding. Suddenly he stands. "We should be out of here by tomorrow. That will give us enough time to get someone to repair your armour. You should ask Immi if that Dwarf still works here." Ithro leaves the room without another word. He was obviously upset. He was worried now, and it manifested itself in anger and short temperedness. Sportacus looks down at the rough wooden floor, the patterns in it swirled, he noted.

  
\--

  
 Robbie decides to freshen up as Sportacus goes to talk to Immi and Stephanie. He was glad to see them both laughing quietly, sitting across from each other at Immi's desk. "Ah, it appears the adults are done with their boring grown up conversation. Sportacus, is there anything else you may need while you are here?" Stephanie hops up from her chair and watches them idly, leaning against the desk and tapping her fingers on the wood. "Stephanie and I are going to be retrieving the trophy so we can be paid. Then, I'll need someone to repair my armour."

  
 "Leave it in your room, I'll have that taken care of in just a moment. I have a few papers I must read through and sign."

  
 "Thank you, Immi, I appreciate it."

  
 "It's no problem at all. Now run along, you've got a Fiend to behead, do you not?"

  
 "Of course, come on, Stephanie." She hops passed Sportacus, trying to hide an excited smile. She had only heard of how Witchers would take trophies from monsters and mount them on their horses.  
 A few men had taken their horses into the barn and _also_ taken the liberty in removing the saddles and other tack. Sportacus appreciated it, sure, but he was bothered by people, _especially humans_ , touching his things. He quickly looks through the three sets of saddle bags to make sure nothing was taken or planted. He found he was missing a piece of bread. _They could have asked_ , Sportacus thought, huffing as he patted the side of Vinur. She huffed back. Sportacus set a blanket on Hestur's back, then lifted the saddle over her. He kneels in the dirt and ensures that the straps are not too tight under her. Stephanie struggled a bit with her saddle. Not only was Vinur much taller than her, but the saddle probably weighed twice what Stephanie did. She eventually did lift the saddle over the horse's back, and was clearly proud of herself. She feels large hands around her waist suddenly and squeals as Sportacus lifts her onto the back of Vinur, then dissolves into a fit of giggles. "Are you ready to go?"

  
 "All set!"

  
\--

  
 Ithro rummages in the pile of Sportacus' armour that Robbie had squished together the night before. He mumbles to himself, cursing at the tangled buckles and reversed leather plates. It takes him too long to find the torn one. He observes the tear was longer than the cut that was on his son's arm, tearing straps and even bending one of the buckles. He's suddenly relieved that the claws did the damage that they did, since it could have been worse. He takes both shoulder pieces, the undamaged one being reference for the blacksmith, and sets out to find the Dwarf.

  
\--

  
 Robbie settles himself into a near boiling bath. He lets out a long sigh as every muscle in his body relaxes, and he nestles the edge of the wood tub between his upper and lower wings. An abundance of small flowers float around him, the scent of honey enveloping him and swirling in his lungs. They were Sweet Alice flowers plucked from Immi's garden. Robbie chose them for not only their scent, but for their reputation of bringing good health. It was most definitely only a wive's tale, Sweet Alice flowers did nothing but look pretty and smell wonderful, but Robbie decided to indulge himself in playing along. After a few minutes he begins to rub the dirt from his limbs, sinking some flowers and staining the water. Of course, with how long it had been since his last bath, this one wouldn't last long. The water quickly becomes murky and Robbie can't stand it. He finishes scrubbing away at his legs and gets out, cringing at the cold air but glad to not sit in his own filth. He grabs a towel sitting on top of a crate and begins to dry himself off.

  
\--

  
 Immi nearly leaps from his seat as one of his guards slams the door to his study open "Sir, there's an attack on the village! They're not human but we don't know what they are!" Behind him men rushed by, swords, axes, and shields in hand. Not human? By the Gods, what did that mean? Immi rushed to a window and looked over the houses. He could see fires had begun raging from some houses, and winged men with horrifying faces were storming the village. People were already dead, laying in the dirt with their children beside them. Immi's throat goes dry. Gargoyles.

  
 "What are you waiting for?! Go!" Immi shouts, and takes a hefty axe from the top of a table. The guard's face- Immi couldn't even recall his name, or even recognize him- goes pale. Although shaking, the man turns on his heel and follows a crowd of men. They all dawned armour of iron and gold fabrics. They looked like an army, and fought like one too, but against Gargoyles, they wouldn't make it. He runs to where he saw Robbie last, and pounds on the locked door to the bathing room. "Robbie! Gargoyles are attacking the town! We need you!" Sportacus and Stephanie were still gone, and hopefully they would stay away from the village for as long as this attack went on. He heard Robbie fumble with the lock, then he whips open the door, still pulling a metal shoulder plate into place. His eyes begin pulsing wildly with colour, a magenta like hue to his natural silver. His wings press angrily against the heavy fabric of his robes, but there was no time to think about how uncomfortable it felt. "Where are Sportacus and Stephanie?!"

  
 "Still gone, they went to collect the head of the Fiend. Quickly, you are a powerful sorcerer, correct? You must drive them off!" Robbie began to feel like he may throw up. How many were there? The only wards he had that could drive off an entire squadron of Gargoyles were theoretical. He had in fact never even encountered the creatures before. "I can do that." Robbie states firmly. He can feel his intestines begin to do summersaults. His heart pounds in his ears as he follows Immi outside at a run. The smell of charcoal hits him immediately, and the sizzling of hair, the stench of burnt _human_. It was too familiar, and he's feeling his body cramp up. Men, too many to count at first glance, lay dead, armour torn open as if it were flesh, and he sees them. Only a few in the courtyard so far, but dozens attack below the fort. They stood nearly eight feet tall, with wings like bats that could blot out the sun. Their skin was a muddled grey that made them look like stone, and their faces alone could scar a child. With grotesque noses and far protruding lower jaws, with massive teeth that mimicked the horns that grew from their heads in all directions. Humans would call them Demons, and they weren't wrong. Soldiers began to swarm past Robbie like bees, hopefully to buy him time as he gains enough power to cast the wards. He begins uttering things, incantations he wrote himself and never thought he would have to use. He committed them to memory though, and was glad he did. He raises his arms in front of himself and feels the magic being pulled from his center, tendrils of purple and red intertwining between his raised hands. He hears the soldiers' swords clash against the armour of the Gargoyles, made of materials no man or woman or any other being could place. Robbie hears the growls and the roars from the monsters and terror spears him. He thrusts his hands upwards and the magic follows, expanding in a rotunda over the village. The bloodcurdling roars cease, and are replaced with the heavy beating of wings and odd screeches. Robbie struggles to reach the outermost boundaries of Crow's Perch, and he feels his legs _burning_ underneath his weight.

  
\--

  
 "Sportacus, look!" Sportacus manages the final knot tightening the Fiend head to Hestur, and follows Stephanie's pointed finger towards Crow's Perch. From the village he sees towers of smoke and winged men darting through the skies, with swords and axes in hand. Sportacus stands up straight and focuses on the shapes, the heavy beating wings, the bent teeth and the deep set eyes. "Stephanie, go back in the cave."

  
 "What? Why? What are those things?"

  
 "They're Gargoyles, go in the cave, and stay as quiet as possible. Don't-" He swallows, holding her shoulders. "Don't use your powers, don't use any magic. That is an order." Though fear set in her eyes, she held a solid look of determination, and nodded once. She turns from him and runs back into the cave, not making a sound after only a few seconds. Sportacus leaps onto the back of his horse and kicks his heels into it's hindquarters. Hestur neighs harshly and lunges forward into a gallop, kicking up chunks of dirt and grass.

  
 As he makes it to the front gates of Crow's Perch, a dome of red and purple magic bursts over the town, and the Gargoyles  begin dispersing in clouds like bats. They pass through the clouds of smoke and the fire begins following them like long eels. The ward hits Hestur and she rears. Sportacus grips the reins and tries his best not to _holler_ a spell to calm her. She settles her hooves, rear legs on the wooden bridge and front legs stamping into the dirt just passed the gate. The magic disappeared almost as soon as it burst, and Sportacus rushes in. Hestur knew where he wanted to go, he wanted to go to Robbie, but Sportacus had froze on the back of the horse. Were it not for Hestur carrying him, he would have stayed put, looking over dead bodies of mothers and daughters and sons and fathers. It made him nearly sick. Blood pooled round them, but some were charred and curled in on themselves. Hestur carries him into the inner circle before he can stare too long. Just in front of the Baron's quarters, he sees Immi at Robbie's side. Hesture halted ten feet away and Sportacus felt the blood in his hands and feet retreat to his core. Robbie was on the ground, moving, but barely. He raised a hand to his face, blocking out the sun. Sportacus stumbles, foot caught in Hestur's stirrup, to rush to him. His bare knees are cut by rocks as he falls by him "Robbie, what did you do?" He looks up at Sportacus, who blocked the sun in a way that it surrounded him like a halo. He feels his hands on his arm, through his metal bracer and through his robes. His mouth was dry and his lungs felt like they were filled with sand. He coughs and his legs pull into his chest "Robbie?" He hears a crack in his voice. "Sportacus," He coughs "I'm- I didn't... W-where's Stephanie?"

  
 "She's safe. She's _safe_. Robbie? Come on, stay with me, Robbie?!" Robbie's eyelashes begin to flutter shut, and his breathing becomes harsh "This isn't good, Immi, help me get him inside."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy easter!


	5. Unrequited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit guys  
> I'm so sorry this took soooo longgg  
> blese forgicve me  
> I have like another chapter almost ready to gooooo

 Sportacus thought carefully, how much longer Robbie would have to endure this. He left Robbie very briefly to retrieve Stephanie, who was perfectly safe, but he had yet to see his father. The pink haired girl sat on the bed next to Robbie, concerned that his breathing sounded somewhat like something was rattling in his chest. Sportacus has Immi bring them water, but Robbie was too out of it to drink anything. Immi dismisses himself after that, muttering about his guards as he left the room. Sportacus presses a hand against Robbie's forehead, and recoils as he finds he was burning hot. What kind of ward had he cast? Something strong enough to drive off Gargoyles, but how strong was that? He began stripping him of his armour and robes, and found an alarming amount of heat radiated from him. He uses the water to dampen a towel and lay it across his forehead, but it was the most he could do. Magic was a temperamental thing when it came to such powerful casts. He couldn't heal it like an ordinary wound, it had to heal itself, and in healing itself, it would heal Robbie. The only thing Sportacus could hope to do now was keep him from overheating.

  
 From what Sportacus had gathered, many of the guards managed to survive, but a majority were injured at least. Immi said he would send a few men who were unharmed to find doctors in Oxenfurt. It would have been no easy task to take the men _to_ the doctors, since the ones that needed medical attention could hardly move.

  
 Sportacus began to grow more anxious. He had no doubt that his father could take care of himself, but the minutes that crept by left him thinking the worse. Maybe if the Fiend wasn't the one to kill him, Gargoyles would be. He physically shakes his head, and stops thinking about it. Robbie was his priority right now, and his father would be fine. He rested on his side, eyes half lidded, and staring at the wall. His wings lay still behind him, more still than Sportacus had ever seen them. His concern grew as he noticed the colours wavered. The magentas were pale pink and the purple was a vague lavender, leaving the tips nearly clear.

  
 Upon entering the room after leaving to retrieve more water, Immi nearly dropped the metal mug as he brought a hand to his face. His eyebrows pressed together in question, and possibly some level of fear. Sportacus holds onto Robbie's wrist, showing he was eager to protect him. More often than not humans were aggressive towards things they didn't understand. Immi stayed in the room, seated beside Sportacus, watching Robbie's wings with morbid curiosity. Robbie appeared to have fallen asleep, but his breathing had soothed and he would likely not begin another coughing fit.

  
 "They're usually more colourful." Sportacus told Immi, his chin resting in his hand.

  
 "The wings?"

  
 "Yes. They're vibrant, and beautiful."

  
 Immi ponders a question for a moment "What do other Fae look like?"

  
 "They're all humanoids. They come from the Skellige Isles. Each island homes different looking Fae in many villages, but they stay well hidden. Whether it be within the safety of the woods or under wards. Robbie and his family come from Faroe Isle."

  
 "Are there Fae on _Undvik_?"

  
 "Yes, but Robbie tells me they're elusive. They're rarely seen but those who have dared to set foot on the island say they have seen them, and they have horns on their faces and wings made of ice." Stephanie's ears perk at the new information. She surprisingly didn't know much about Fae outside of what Robbie told her, which was very little. She realized she never asked, so he probably kept it to himself. She would ask about Fae and Faroe Isle when he got better. Her ears twitch a bit more, picking up on a sound coming from the otherwise quiet hall. She looks to Sportacus, silently asking if he had heard it as  well. Sportacus exhales sharply, focusing on the heavy footfalls that were getting closer. He recognizes the weight of them, and feels the uneven steps through his chair and up his fingertips. The only thing throwing him off was the second pair of boots that seemed to follow. In the doorway appeared Ithrottaalfurinn, a very short man beside him. He breathes heavily, hair drenched and boots squishing under his feet.

  
 They both had water trailing behind them, and a stench of swamp. "What happened?" Ithro asks, stepping inside the room and removing his boots and articles of clothing.

  
 "Shouldn't we ask _you_ that? Where did you go?" Sportacus countered, exasperated about the fact that he entered the room as if he had just jumped into a lake.

  
 "Uthrik, he saved me." He answers, referring to the Dwarf "The well in Immi's garden leads into a cave, it's where we were able to hide. It was full of water though, as any well should be. Then, the ward, that was Robbie?"

  
 "Yes, he managed to scare off the Gargoyles, but they may be back soon, and there will be more of them. This place isn't safe for- for anyone."

  
 "You know why they attacked, right?" Sportacus swallowed, and nearly gagged at the bone dry texture of his throat. Of course he knew why, but he didn't want to admit anything. Not yet. He nods, eyes turning toward Robbie to watch the subtle movements of his eyelids. "Sportacus, _son_ , they want Stephanie. Whether they're going to use her or-"

  
 "Stop. Please, we don't have to talk about this right now." Ithro lowers his head, wet curls of hair falling over his forehead. Uthrik- a Dwarf of a bulky build and a long beard, which seemed to be a staple to Dwarves- leaned against the wall, blue armour tucked under his folded arm. The room remains silent for a moment, Stephanie's heart rate increasing in fear of Gargoyles. What did they want from her? What could she, a _child_ , possibly bring to the table?

  
 Sportacus wanted to involve her as much as he could. This was about her, so she should know. She was a powerful girl, and one he was going to raise to become a fellow Witcher. That seemed to be put on hold for now, though. "Sportacus?" She asks.

  
 "Yes, Stephanie?"

  
 Her cheeks puff out slightly as she tightens her lips in concentration. She tries to think of something Sportacus would say. "I'd like to know what the Gargoyles want with me." She holds eye contact with the elf until he sighs and looks down. Uthrik appears uncomfortable, not knowing whether he should leave or not. He settles for handing Ithro Sportacus' pauldrons, which he managed to repair before the Gargoyles had come, and steps out.

  
 "Stephanie, please," He reaches over Robbie to place a hand on her knee "We can talk about this when Robbie wakes up, okay?" She nods, and it's left at that.

  
 Immi leaves the room, saying he has a lot of work to do, and now even more because of the Gargoyles. Robbie stirred more than a few times, his wings flexing and fluttering under hazes of dreams. Ithro stood near the door, leaned against the wall, hands constantly fiddling with some part of his armour. Small tassels at the ends of his gauntlets, the sleeves of his chainmail shirt, the ends of his hair, always something. Ithro never thought he was very close with Robbie, but in the end, he cared about him very deeply. Robbie told him things he said he wouldn't tell anyone else, he confided in him, he asked him for advice on many things. They were very close friends, and Ithro failed to realize that sometimes. Now, as he looked on his friend, unconscious from over exerting his magic, he's overwhelmed with emotion. If someone asked him what he was feeling, he couldn't tell them. If someone asked him _why_ he was feeling like that, he couldn't tell them that either.

  
 Two hours pass. The three hovered around Robbie, and it felt too familiar to sitting by someone at a hospital. The last time Sportacus had to do that was with a child. A young boy, quite younger than Stephanie, with bright eyes and blonde hair. Ziggy was his name. Sportacus remembered his name so clearly because of how strange it sounded. The poor child was nearly killed by a werewolf, if Sportacus had been a second later- Robbie moves. Sportacus snaps from his thoughts and presses a hand to Robbie's arm. The fae mutters something along the lines of his name, then laughs, weakly. "Robbie, how do you feel?" Sportacus asks, Ithro thinking the same thing as he approached the bedside.

  
 "Like I got punched in the stomach by four drowners, how are you?" He sneers, adjusting himself on one elbow.

 

  
 "I'm glad that you're not dead," Sportacus smiles "Do you need anything? An amulet, a potion?"

  
 "I think I'll be fine with water. I'd- The ward I cast, it was dangerous. I'd never cast an offensive ward on that scale before. A-and, not just dangerous to me, but if I had done it wrong, I-I could have hurt someone else-" He pulls his arm against his stomach, a cringe twisting his face and scrunching his nose. There was no headache, no dry tongue, no burning lungs, but his abdomen throbbed with pain.

  
 "Robbie, rest. We need you to be fit for leaving tonight. The Gargoyles will come back, sooner or later."

  
 "Gods, what do they want? There's nothing here in this miniature town." Robbie hisses and settles back into a pillow, tightness in his stomach soothing as he presses his hand against it harder. He tilts his head as Sportacus looks down, hesitating on his word choices. "Well?" He takes a sharp inhale at a sudden sting of pain through his back, and feels Sportacus' hand on his shoulder. Both him and Robbie look to Ithro "It's Stephanie. They want Stephanie."

  
 "What?" Robbie locked eyes with Ithro, but grabbed for Stephanie's hand. "Then-then we have to go, we have to go right now! If the Gargoyles come back, it will surely be sooner rather than later. We can't risk it." Stephanie pulled herself closer to the Fae, huddling against his side. She felt something flicker in her temple. Flicker? Was that the right word for it?

  
 "Robbie, you can't, you're still hurt." Sportacus said, drawing Robbie's eye.

  
 "I can _walk_ , you bafoon. I'll be fine, we have to keep Stephanie safe. We should get back to Kaer Morhen as soon as possible."

  
 "And then what?"

  
 "Think of a plan! Something! I don't know!" Sportacus takes a deep, shuddering breath. If this had blossomed into an argument, who knows how it would affect Stephanie. If she used her magic, they would find her. Source magic is so _potent_ , anyone could sense it. There's always some kind of static in the air, and sometimes a smell. A smell like lightning flashing in the air at the top of a mountain, just before it strikes.

 "Sportacus?"

  
 Sportacus presses his brows upwards "Yes, Stephanie?" He says softly. She removes her face from Robbie's shoulder and to Sportacus' surprise, she held herself well. She was too brave for her age. "My magic, I don't know what's happening with it."

  
 "Okay, just, just remain calm for me, okay? Remember our breathing exercises."

  
 Ithro huffs, reaching a hand towards her "At this point, we don't have time for _breathing exercises_." Tapping two fingers to her temple, a small yellow light expands then dissipates within a second. The girl slumps over, eyes slamming shut.

  
 "Pabbi!"

  
 "Don't. I don't need a moral lesson. Pick her up, we're going to the stables."

  
 "And Robbie?"

  
 "I'll help him, just get your armour on, and get Stephanie."

  
\--

  
 In some kind of hectic frenzy, they manage to get the saddles on the horses. Stephanie sits in front of Sportacus, asleep for possibly another hour or two. Ithro stays ahead, asking Sportacus and Robbie to follow his lead, and not stray. Sportacus held his tongue tightly, wanting to ask why Ithro thought they would leave the path.

  
 "We're going to Novigrad." Ithro said.

  
 "Novigrad?" Sportacus echoes, casting a shaky glance at Robbie.

  
 "Clearly, we need protection. Just the three of us won't be able to keep Stephanie's magic suppressed, so, I have a friend that may help us."

  
 "A friend that _may_ help us?"

  
 "He _will_ help us. His name is Glanni. He specializes in hiding magic. It's how he's able to live in Novigrad, without getting burned at the stake."

  
\--

  
 At a small camp, set up in the comfort of tall surrounding trees, Stephanie finally managed to sleep. The three adults stay awake around the fire, Ithro eating some kind of dried meat, Robbie crafting potions, and Sportacus quietly fiddling with a panflute. It had broken somehow, a while ago, but he was sure he could get it back in working order. Robbie insisted he make a new one, but this one had a sentimental value. He tugs on a few loose violet strands, tying them in a crossing pattern, then blows into it. Nothing falls apart, nothing sounds strange. He grinned broadly, waving the flute at Robbie, silently enjoying his victory as to not wake up Stephanie. Robbie smiles back at him, his tired eyes rolling but still lighting up. He was too excited to not play it. When Stephanie first came to Kaer Morhen, she was too frightened by the spacious castle to fall asleep. Sportacus sat at her bedside, playing an old Elven song that Ithro taught him. She fell asleep very quickly to the sound of the long, low notes of a forest song. He begins playing that song, the notes coming out just right, pulling Robbie's smile even wider. He knew the lyrics that went along with the song, but his throat clogged when he thought of singing them. He instead returns to his potions that bubbled over the fire. Maybe next time.

  
 Sportacus quietly fades the song out, then looks down at the instrument. He runs his fingers over the ridges and smiles. He really missed playing it, but he had just never gotten around to tinkering with it. He thought about teaching Stephanie how to play it. She would enjoy that.

  
 Sportacus and Ithro were long asleep by the time Robbie finished his small batch of potions. The liquid was greenish-red, and viscous in texture. Although looking like something that would be vomited up by a sick man, it's aroma was quite sweet and would soothe the pains in his back. Curling up in his bedroll, his eyes slide shut, and he finds himself sleeping easily for the first time in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blease leave a comment it is my only validation  
> u don't have to tho lol I know from experience that writing comments is hard  
> (especially if ur reading this au shit storm lmaooo)


	6. Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy oh boy oh boy  
> Do I have a good chapter here or what  
> I'm really pleased with this chapter, it's how Robbie and Sporp met

 Robbie managed to evade the Witcher for a while. While the witch hunters in Novigrad had placed a bounty of sorts on his head, he feared that one of the two most prevalent Witchers would be tempted by any amount of gold waved in their faces to come and kill him. Turns out, Witchers won't kill without good reason. Sorcerer did not mean murderer, but he had to stay out of sight. He couldn't stay there for any longer. The more he had to leave his house, the angrier he got. What broke him though, it was something he could never forget. Large pyres set up in the middle of town with women tied to them. They were crying, pleading. They had done nothing wrong, absolutely nothing. But if you were a sorceress or sorcerer, the witch hunters would find even the most minute mistake they've made, and kill them for it. Robbie wanted to stop it, he would have ran up to the pyres and stopped it. But he didn't. He froze. His wide eyes peering out from under his hood and his feet stuck to the ground like he was deep in a muddy bog. He watched the humans cheer on, shouting and yelling things that Robbie only finally heard days later in blurred memories and dreams. He was dead focused on the witch hunter, who was weilding a torch and preaching of the Eternal Fire. Robbie thought he heard something along the lines of "The Eternal Fire will guide us from the dark, and cleanse us with it's light!" And the pyres lit up as if a volcano were beneath them. The screams were bloodcurdling. The choking heat shredded the women's throats and melted their skin, most of it charring but some bits just... falling off. Long hair sizzled and the stench of it all. It burned, it stained Robbie's nostrils and he began to feel true fear. Pure blooded fear that constricted his whole body. All he wanted to do at that point was _get out_.

  
 Not caring who saw him, he ran. He ran to his house and threw the lightest things he owned into some saddle bags, then charmed a soldier into giving him his horse. He didn't know where to go, he had nothing but a stolen horse and the clothes on his back.

  
 Robbie had heard very briefly of a sorceress in Midcopse. The swampy town in Velen might be his only hope. When he got there though, she was gone. He asked around and was able to find her previous address, and the house he found there was still full of furnishings and spell ingredients of all kinds. He could make a living there. He could help the village and they would pay what they could. It felt like the best thing for him.

  
 On a particularly busy day, when multiple children had caught a fever only he knew how to cure, some man showed up. His strength was evident under his armour, as he did backflips and handstands to cheer up the sick children. His hair curled up from under his hat and he had a strange and pointy mustache. But the one thing that put Robbie off was the weaponry on his back. Not just one sword, two. One steel, one silver. A Witcher. Robbie felt immediately in danger. He thought the witch hunters finally found a decent reason for his death. Or they lied to the Witcher. He stood a few feet behind the group of villagers standing in front of Robbie's house, his arms crossed and the smallest smile on his lips. As the crowd quickly dissipated, all walking off with herbs and potions of all sorts, the Witcher did not. No matter how badly he wanted to retreat back into his house, he decided to approach him. He seemed to have the same idea as he moved towards Robbie.

  
 "What do you want?" The man was noticably shorter than Robbie, but wasn't any less intimidating.

  
 "I was in Crow's Perch only yesterday, hunting a particularly nasty creature." Robbie only slightly relaxed, finding that he wasn't there to kill him. "I needed some help, and I heard a rumour of a sorcerer in Midcopse. You are him, if I'm not wrong?"

  
 "No, you're right." He tries to swallow down his weariness, but with no luck. "What do you need, Witcher?"

  
 "I need your assistance on the hunt."

  
 "You mean, fight the monster with you? No deal! You can't possibly pay me enough to leave my nice, safe house to get my face torn off by some Basilisk!"

  
 "How did you know it's a Basilisk I'm hunting?"

  
 "Lucky guess. Now get away from my house, Elf. I can't help you." Before Robbie could even storm back into his house, angered by the most ridiculous request he had ever gotten, the Witcher had grabbed him by the shoulder. "Wait, please. I just need the ingredients for the blade oils. I'm sorry, that was worded poorly. English is not my first language."

  
 "I assumed, what is your first language then?"

  
 "Hen Llinge."

  
 "Elder Speech? Alright, come inside. Just try not to knock anything over. I've a lot of things brewing right now." The Witcher decided he really liked the house. It was warm, and full of soft looking things like sheep pelts and heavy blankets. There were only a few eerie things in the house. Skulls painted with sigils, both human and animal. "What's your name, Witcher? I don't feel like calling you by your job title." Robbie asked idly, opening some cupboards and pulling a covered bowl of dog tallow out of one. "My name is Sportacus."

  
 "And you are an Elf, right? That's why you know Elder Speech?"

  
 "Ah, yes, I am." He removes his hat, feeling safe around a sorcerer, to reveal more than obvious pointed ears. Robbie only hoped to glance at _Sportacus,_ but manages stuck looking at him for a few seconds longer. His hair fell around his face in golden curls that could belong to no one else but an elf. Robbie quickly attempts to pull himself together, and faces the opposite direction, attention on what he was doing.

  
 "Thank Mother." Robbie mumbles, and begins removing his robe. He sees being around the Elf to be his only chance at comfort until nightfall. His bi-coloured wings spring up and he stretches out all the stiffness in them "I've been like that all day, it's absolutely uncomfortable." He glances towards Sportacus, who wore a face of shock "What? Never seen a Fae?"

  
 "No, I-I haven't, actually."

  
 "We don't like to be seen anyway." Robbie begins explaining mindlessly, fiddling with some strange alchemy set while still searching for Ergot seeds. "Most of my family lives in my home village. Where they don't have to keep their wings hidden like they're something to ashamed of. You understand."

  
 "I do." Seeming to have finally found the Ergot seeds, he drops them into an oddly shaped vial. Sportacus had never seen someone make a draconid oil like this. He never used equipment so... advanced. "You can sit, you know. This might take a while."

  
 Sportacus smiles "Thank you, I prefer standing."

  
 "Suit yourself."

  
 "So, why don't you live in your village anymore?"

  
 "Why do you care?"

  
 "Caring is what I do." Robbie whipped his head towards the Witcher, face trying to decide between anger and confusion. "How could a Witcher possibly care?" Sportacus took a suddenly defensive stance, all weight on his left leg. "Oh..." Robbie looked into his eyes, strange and morphing in colours "Your mutations... they...."

  
 "They weren't complete. I started to react improperly during the process. The sorceress stopped the spell, and left me with emotions. I'm just as powerful though, possibly moreso."

  
 "That's admirable. Oh, I think it's done." A thick liquid dripped from a faucet-like bud at the end of the rust coloured alchemy set. Robbie turns the handle, smiling to himself as the draconid oil flows into a potion vial. Stopping it with a cork, he hands it to Sportacus. "What do I owe you?" Robbie thought it over. He never really had anyone pay him, he worked for trade. "Actually, uhm, it's on the house. The ingredients are abundant around here."

  
 "Thank you! Really, that's very kind of you." Robbie sneers despite a vague flutter in his chest that he assumed was happiness. "Whatever. Just don't get yourself killed out there."

  
 "Do you do other things? Aside from potions." What could this Elf possibly want now?

  
 "Yes, I do enchantments, charms, glamours, even sew you a dress if you want." Sportacus laughed at the idea "I don't think dresses are for me. But, I was asking in case I ever needed anything else, I could come back."

  
 "It would be a pleasure to do business with you, as with anyone else. My name is Robbie, by the way, I don't recall telling you." He was sure his obnoxious smile couldn't get any wider, but as he spoke his name, it did. Robbie guessed he liked his name.

  
 "Thank you, Robbie!" Wasn't this man supposed to be a ruthless monster hunter? He was leaving his shop to go kill a miniature dragon, these ones did not breath fire, of course, but either way it was still a massive flying reptile with a massive appetite. He suddenly worried for the Elf. He was already out the door when Robbie snapped from his thought. He peered out a window and saw Sportacus, feeding half an apple to his horse. How is he not already dead? He was so selfless, and the sight of him being gentle with Sykur, petting his black mane and patting his side. Repulsive. He sees him, and waves. Robbie waves back and quickly pulls his head back into his house. His feet lift from the ground and he sits there in a frantic kind of hover. He was absolutely screwed if he came back. His heart had stopped yet beat faster and faster at the same time. He was attracted to him and soon began to loathe ever seeing him again.

  
 Of course, he was back next week. He hears a knock at his door "It's a shop, just come in." He faced away from the door, working on a batch of potions. "Ah, sorry, Robbie." He spins around to see the Witcher again, in his blue layered armour and his tight dark cap with his curly hair, which had somehow gotten even prettier since he last saw it. It had only been a week, had it gotten longer? "Sportacus! Hello! How can I help you?" Sportacus gently removes his hat and scratches at the back of his head "I need a runestone, for my sword."

  
 "Of course, which one?" Robbie was preparing himself for a heart attack. Every ounce of blood in his body was pumping its way to his face. His hair _had_ to have gotten longer, significantly. No! No, he had part of it pulled back the last time he saw him, that's why it was so long. The pale gold curls fell halfway down his neck and if he bent over, they would bounce and fall down in front of his face. "The steel." He removes the sword from its sheath. It was all one fluid movement, but so terribly slow. Maybe that's just how it felt to Robbie, and he assumed it was. He realized soon after he was handed the weapon that it took him no more than a second and one half to remove it from his back. Robbie tries to calm his wings, which rustled anxiously under his robes, but it only made his hands shake to do so. Hopefully Sportacus wouldn't notice, or at least he hoped he wouldn't point it out. It doesn't take a genius to read a Fae's body language. Or, wing language, he supposed.

  
 Robbie walks into a seperate room to the left of the front door with the sword and Sportacus follows. The room was full of shelves that protruded from the walls, which were all full of trinkets, vials, crystals, and tinctures. Sportacus looks around the place in awe, there were so many things, on all of the shelves! There were three per wall, and they all extended the length of the walls and met at the corners. "This is very impressive, Robbie, there are so many things in here!" He was obviously easily impressed, there weren't many things on the shelves that were necessarily rare. Some things here and there imported from Skellige, but besides that, there was not much aside from his own potions and herbs he grew in his very yard. "Thank you, I suppose. Now, what kind of a runestone were you looking for?" He lays the sword gently on a large stone table at the center of a wall, parallel to the door. It was bothering Robbie slightly that he needed his steel sword enchanted, and not his silver one. Surely he used his silver one much more often, right? He hunted monsters, frequently, if not daily. The steel sword was used for things that weren't monsters. Like wild dogs, or wolves. Or humans. No Witcher would come to his shop, asking for enchantments on some regular, run of the mill sword, just for the fun of it. "I..." What? What was he hesitating for? Was it that bad? Was it a secret what he was killing? And would asking him for an enchantment totally give it away? Stupid Elf, he gave him more questions than answers.

  
 "A Dazhbog runestone, preferably a greater one." Sportacus holds his hat tightly, the fabric stretching between his fingers and threatening to tear. Robbie leans his hip against the table and crosses his arms, looking down the tip of his nose at the Witcher. "You don't want to do this." Sportacus' ears twitch, as if he were a dog. "What are you-"

  
 "Whatever _this_ is. Whoever you're going after, it can't be worth it." Sportacus pressed his fingers deeper into his own palms, through his hat, which strained further. "That is _none_ of your concern."

  
 "I don't think so either, but you're not a Witcher, not _really_. What is this contract? Are you being threatened?" He throws his hat down next to his sword. "It's the Scoia'tael. I've been trying to _avoid_ , this whole- this whole-" He motions aggressively "Damnable war! And now, I'm being paid to take down a group of Scoia'tael, or they'll- they'll..." He stares up at Robbie "Look, I'll pay whatever you want. You don't need to know this."

  
 "How about this," Robbie begins slowly "You don't have to kill them."

  
 "I can go somewhere else if I have to." Sportacus says, reaching for his hat, clearly losing patience with whatever it was Robbie was going on about. Robbie grabs his wrist harshly,  stopping the breath in Sportacus' throat. "Listen to me, _Witcher_. We're non-humans. If we go to their camp, unarmed, then we can most likely talk them into leaving. I'm sure they'll trust us, we're obviously not witch hunters." Sportacus yanks his hand away from him, and looks at him in silence.

  
\--

  
 Robbie's eyes open slowly. It was still dark out, and he groaned with displeasure. It was, in a way, quite a nice dream. He hadn't thought about how him and Sportacus had met in a while. It was also a very deep sleep, something he rarely got. Rolling over, he huffs. He could see Sportacus, just around the fire, sleeping soundly next to Stephanie. Over and over he had thought about what he feels when he looks at Sportacus. It's exactly how he felt when he had dated a woman in his village years ago. She was his obsession, and when he thought about Sportacus, he was his obsession too. His new obsession, he supposed. With his oddly charming and hyper personality, or that weird way he eats strawberries. His cheekbones, his eyebrows, his bright blue eyes. It was torture to see his hair, and know that he probably wouldn't get to mindlessly play with it. It was stupid, he didn't have the guts to like someone in that weird love kind of way again. He would try to go back to sleep, but that was hopeless. He was exhausted, but that meant nothing.

  
 He sits up and tosses some more wood into the dying fire. Embers hit his skin, and he retracts his hand with a growl. Even after all of the shit that had happened in the past two days, a campfire couldn't go easy on him? He sits cross-legged in front of it for quite some time. He only realized how long when the sun began shining between the trees. Sportacus woke up first, and takes notice that Robbie probably didn't get much sleep. He gives Robbie a bright but sympathetic smile, which only got him a frown in return. He starts doing weird exercises, the incessant thumps of both his feet and hands eventually waking up Ithro. Then Stephanie woke up. Then his fairly peaceful morning was full of Witchers jumping around a camp, probably freaking out even the horses, who were used to this kind of thing. Robbie simply turned his attention away from them for the time being and maintained focus on putting potion bottles into saddlebags and pouches on his belt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time on dragon ballz  
> wer'e taking the witchers to novigrad


	7. Ella

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here he comes here is Glanni

 A rock settled in Robbie's stomach as they approached Novigrad. He never wanted to return. Now, as they came upon the gates, the small amulet made a noise it hadn't made in years. It was quiet, to the point where only he could hear it, but it was unmistakable. It was like a shrill birdcall that told him to turn back. Turn back or you'll wish you were dead. He began smelling smoke, and kept Sykur close to Hestur and Sportacus. Possibly a bit too close, as he found his knee brushing against Sportacus'. Just outside of the Seven Cats Inn, they pause. "Stephanie, come here for a moment." Sportacus asks, crouching down to her height. "Okay, turn around. I'm going to braid your hair back. You'll have to wear your hood when we get to the city, okay? Keep your sword close, and remain in stance." She agrees to all of these things as Sportacus intertwines her hair for her. He takes a couple pins and pins her bangs back, so no colour showed. He lifts her hood over her head, and rests his hands on her shoulders. "I'm sorry we have to do this, Stephanie. But I'm very proud of you. You are so brave for your age."

  
 "Thank you, Sportacus." She smiles softly, perhaps acting more mature than she should. It was almost a smile to comfort him. He smiles back, as best he can.

  
 The men at the front gate don't bat an eye at Robbie or Stephanie, thankfully, but cast pointed glares toward Sportacus and Ithro. They could also try to blend in, but it wasn't like a Witcher to hide their business. The swords on their backs were their advertisements, and despite everyone holding some kind of unbarred grudge on Witchers, they were still frequently sought after. Only when they killed some massive beast that had been eating livestock were they praised. Even that was just for a day or so. Victories were long lived in Sportacus' own mind though.

  
 "So, where do we find Glanni?" Sportacus asks.

  
 "Typically, he's at his brothel, Ocean Fauna, by the docks. Sometimes, he's at fencing rings. And other times he's simply at home." Ithro took notice of Sportacus' sudden blush of embarrassment, and laughed "Don't worry, we won't be spending much time there. We just need to see Glanni."

  
\--

  
 "I'm not taking Stephanie in there." Sportacus said firmly.

  
 "Look, I don't want to bring her in there either, but it'll go faster. Glanni tends to talk a lot, and if we have a child with us, he'll understand we need to talk about something important. He'll take us to a backroom." Sportacus frowns tightly. He couldn't believe this. " _Fine_ ," He agrees, though not willingly "Stephanie, just keep your eyes down, and for the love of the Gods, do not talk to any man in there." She nodded, grabbing hold of his hand. Sportacus knew that she probably wouldn't lift her head to speak to anyone, and that if anyone approached her, he would have their head lopped off in a heartbeat, but nothing would keep him from voicing his worry.

  
 As soon as Ithro opened the front door, a loud ruckus sounded from inside. It sounded like they were having fun, all of the people that were hollering. It was warmly lit, and didn't look as profane as other brothels. Of course, the women were still clad in things that were more appropriate for wearing in private, but everything else seemed quite tame. "Ithrottaalfurrin!" His attention is pulled by a man, completely dressed in pink _everything_ , shouting his father's name. The trim of his long jacket was decorated with fur, luxurious and white, and his silk clothing spoke proudly of his wealth. His shoes were very impressive as well. Though clearly made for women, he managed the tall heels very well. Robbie met eyes with him and they both hesitated in their steps. The man in pink kept his composure though, and approached Ithro quickly.

  
 Ithro smiled "Hello, Glanni." He could barely get his arms open for a hug before Glanni grabbed onto his face and kissed his cheek. "You idiot! I haven't seen you in nearly three years! What has been keeping you?"

  
 "Ah, a-about that, can we talk in the back?"

  
 "Of course, of course. Come with me." He holds Ithro by the shoulder as they walk, followed by the others.

  
 "So, who are they? I-is that a child?" Sportacus smiles, pulling Stephanie's hood back to reveal her pink hair and pointed ears. "She's an elf! And not so much as a letter from you!" He hits Ithro in the arm with the back of his hand, surprisingly causing the Witcher to wince. "I'll tell you everything later. It's difficult to send letters from a remote castle in the mountains, you fool, it's not my fault." Glanni huffs, and looks at the others, raising a brow in question at Ithro. "This is my son, Sportacus, and our friend, Robbie."

  
 "Oh! I should have known." He chuckles "I've heard so much about you two." They smile politely, but their anxiety was evident. "Uhm, Glanni," Ithro begins "We need you're help. With magic."

  
 Glanni holds his coat close to his body, his posture tall but still slouching. He bites his lip before nodding "Okay, how so?"

  
 "We were in Crow's Perch only a day ago and... The town was attacked by Gargoyles." Glanni gasps, pressing a hand against his chest and over his mouth " _Nei_ , what did they want?" he asks quickly and nearly silently. "They wanted her, Stephanie. She's a source." Though his eyes looked like they couldn't get wider, they did. Soft, silver irises glistened under the light of lit sconces, in fear and shock. "I can help you. I will. Come with me, somewhere much more private." He rushes towards a half open door to a staircase, something under his jacket moving feverishly. The staircase lead to what Sportacus found to be an awkwardly narrow hallway, with multiple doors branching off of it. Glanni opens a door at the very end of the hall, which felt to go on for too long compared to how the building looked outside. The room looked to be an ordinary bedroom, of course, if that bedroom belonged to a rich nobleman. Or, in this case, noblewoman. The sheets were silk, there was a closet bursting with frills and lace of many colours, and a vanity crammed with makeup and perfumes. They all felt it immediately, the room was heavily warded, just not against them. Robbie figured if they weren't welcome in the room, they would be crushed to death. The door shuts softly behind them on its own.

  
 Glanni carefully removes his long coat and tosses it on the bed. Under the coat was exactly what Robbie had thought. Wings. Ice blue coloured wings with sharp and jagged ends. Indeed, a Fae from Undvik appeared to have wings made of thin ice. "How did you end up here? Of all places." Robbie asks.

  
 "Hm," He smiles "It's a long story. I'll tell you another time." He takes a seat on a short stool in front of the vanity "Sweetheart, come here." He waves for Stephanie. She takes a few timid steps forward, but freezes as Glanni raises his hands, which glowed dimly with the colours of white and red. "It's alright, Stephi, he's not going to hurt you. He's family." Ithro nudges her verbally, maybe a small push on her shoulder in the right direction as well. Glanni presses his thumbs to her temple and holds the sides of her head, and the magic around his hands wrapped around her, mixing into many shades of pink. The magic weaves through the fabric of her clothing, melts into her leather bracers, swims through her eyes. She was thankful it wasn't hurting but, she couldn't feel anything. There was a tingling in her fingers and her toes, and if she really really tried she could move her hands or blink, but that was it. The rest of her body felt non-existent, like she was simply a floating entity. Then she feels a few sparks in her mind. They go off like pink fireworks, but quickly fizzle out. They keep trying to get bigger, like they were being stubborn and didn't want to go out. She feels pressure remove itself from her skull, and her eyes open, despite her not closing them. Her stomach decides it didn't appreciate the invading magic, and attempted to get rid of it the only way it knew how. She falls onto the floor and begins heaving, throwing up what little breakfast she had that morning. Through the ringing in her ears she hears panicked voices around her, her mind putting together "What happened? What did you do?!"

  
 "I didn't do anything! It's her magic, it won't let me hide it." She feels a hand on her back, moving slowly up and down "It's okay, Stephanie, better out than in." Sportacus says. Stephanie didn't agree with this, but her stomach did. As she continued, Glanni pulled his legs away, fearing the ruin of his shoes. He makes a motion with his hands and a towel from across the room floats toward him. Robbie squinted, most Fae didn't practice levitation. He watches closely as Glanni hands Stephanie the towel for her face.

  
 "It's alright, Stephanie, we'll try something else, okay? We'll try something else." Stephanie shook her head repeatedly, triggering a terrible throbbing behind her eyes. "No, no I don't want to try anything else." Her arms were feeling heavy but she still wiped her mouth clean of bile. The throbbing behind her eyes is quickly replaced by heat as she begins crying into the fabric in her hands. Sportacus holds onto her tightly "I just want to go home."

  
 "I know, we all do, but, we can't yet. Robbie alone can't protect us. Novigrad is as safe as it gets right now." Ithro watches over the scene, arms crossed and heart shattering. Sportacus was handling it well though, and Ithro wished he had been able to handle his emotional outbursts with as much grace. Though he wanted a son, he didn't think he handled him very well. Somehow though, Sportacus turned out to be a very respectable adult and Witcher. "Do you have anywhere for us to stay? Not for very long, just, just until we can figure something out?" Ithro asks.

  
 "Of course, you'll have to talk to my daughter about it though. Ella, she runs the rings. You've met her, haven't you?"

  
 "Of course, but she was only nine the last time we saw each other, wasn't she?"

  
 "Yes, well, a year ago she took interest in fencing competitions. I couldn't stop her. The brat." Glanni says with a smile "Now she owns the damn things. Anyway, you can find her in the underground ring by the western gate."

  
 "I'll stay here, you two go without me." Sportacus says.

  
\--

  
 Robbie stayed admittedly too close to Ithro as they sped through the streets of Novigrad. His amulet whistled at him every so often, just in case he got too comfortable in the city. The guards were a steady reminder, and the occasional witch hunter, that he was not safe at any time. An entrance to what Robbie assumed were the sewers had a woman standing in front of it. She had a pale orange bandana tied over her ears, only leading Robbie to assume she was an Elf. The magic aura around her was vague, but the ward behind her was not. She pushes her dusty brown hair back out of her face as they approach. "Ya want somethin'?" She asked, one hand on her hip and the other at the hilt of a sword.

  
 "Glanni sent us, we need to talk to Ella." The woman raised her brows at Ithro.

  
 "Alright, go on in. Cause any trouble though, and Ella will be takin' care o' ya herself." She swings the metal grate door open, which had stairs spiralling below it. The bustle of the city was muted as they passed the ward, and was replaced by the distant sounds of the fencing ring. The stairs flared wide as an entrance to the open arena-like place. To the right, a bar serving drinks and food. To the left, seating and bidding stands. At the center, the ring. Two men were currently battling in the fenced off dirt, grunting and lunging at each other. No armour, only pairs of ragged pants tied around their waists. On the opposite side of the ring, truly, upon a pile of gold, was Ella. She sat in a large, purple dress decorated with lace, and wore a smile as she watched the fight. Ithro was already making his way to her by the time Robbie saw her. He rushes through the crowd of people to catch up, slightly agitating a Dwarf that he sadly hadn't seen. Ithro approached the tall pile of gold, perched on by Ella as if she were a finch on a branch. Before he could get a word out, the girl shouted his name excitedly while sliding down her fortune. "Oof! Ella!" He laughs as she slams into him in a hug, spinning him around. "I haven't seen you in so long! Not since I was nine!" Robbie only notices now, the six large wings fluttering behind her in a blur of black. "Is dad too mad at you?" She asks, grin still ever present.

  
 "No, he was very happy to see me, actually. After he smacked me in the arm, of course." They laughed together, then Ella stepped back, smoothing out her skirt.

  
 "I should ask," she says, in a surprisingly posh accent "Who are you?"

  
 "My name is Robbie, I'm a friend." She shakes his hand with a smile, her lipstick forming a small heart.

  
 "Well, it's nice to meet you, Robbie. So, what are you two doing here? I doubt you're here for the ring."

  
 "We're here in a slight emergency." Ithro says, causing Ella's shoulders to tense up "We're looking for somewhere to stay. Somewhere secure. Glanni said you could give us a place like that, just for a few days." Ella hummed, placing her hand under her chin as she thought. "Well, I have a place just outside of the city-"

  
 "We need somewhere in Novigrad. It's not safe anywhere else."

  
 "Of course, but I'm just... I'm very tied up right now, I don't know how quickly I'll have any rooms available." A woman, one that was not standing behind her before, appeared and tapped her shoulder. Ella turns with a quizzical look "Madame, I've just been told a small house has opened up, it's minimal, but I suppose it will do?"

  
 "Oh, that's good! Yes, is that the one near the bath house?"

  
 "Yes, madame."

  
 "Very well then! Very well, indeed. Ithro, just give me one moment to fetch the keys." Hidden past the pile of coins and trinkets was a doorway she disappeared into. Ithro turns his attention to the fencing ring. A human against a half Elf was a bad idea. The human was getting tired quickly, trying to defend the lightning quick strikes of the other. Then he made one misstep, and the elf had the sword through the humans throat. "I knew he would win, he's very good." Ella popped up beside Ithro, jingling the keys on a large loop. "Who is he?"

  
 "He goes by Jives. He makes a living down here. Sometimes though, he sings and plays the lute for us."

  
 "He seems a bit young, though, doesn't he?"

  
 "Pay attention to who you're asking." Ella laughs and hands Ithro the keys "I'll have someone take you to the house, uhm, Lydia? Could you be a dear and escort Ithro and Robbie to the house near the bath house? Thank you."

  
 "Come with me." Ithro did a double take before following her, _she_ had a _very_ deep voice.

  
\--

  
 The house was near miniature. Ithro couldn't complain, beggars can't be choosers, but he already felt cramped as he found the first floor to be the kitchen and the upstairs to be the singular bedroom. At the front door, hands clasped in front of her, Lydia awaited them. Ithro removes his hat and rustles his hair "It'll do, what's the payment?" Wordlessly, Lydia reached into a pocket on the inside of her pale blue coat, and removed an envelope. "Ella's been dealing with a few minor problems in the sewers around the rings. Get rid of those, and the house is all yours for as long as you need." Ithro smirks. He hadn't seen Ella in a while, but from what he gathered, this was very like her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be very chill I promise


	8. Döran

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really reeally short but it's different

 Night drew dense clouds over the camp. It was built to be temporary, but Döran was regretting the flimsy and water susceptible materials the small buildings were made of. He feels small droplets land on the tip of his nose, which wrinkles in response. The rain falls more quickly, splashing off of his pauldrons and dripping down his horns. He frowns at the mud which quickly began forming around the camp, causing most Gargoyles to retreat to their small barracks. Döran figures he should follow their lead, before the true downpour arrives. He enters the building he shares with his closest. His sister, and his three men in highest command. Androg was already asleep, but Finuek, Urbokh, and Druzak sat at a table, talking quietly, presumably about the Elven girl. Döran shakes the rain from his wings, huffing at the thought. He wouldn't have sent so many soldiers after her had he known there would be a _Fae_. That's one thing he couldn't have imagined, since so few Fae travel from Skellige. Most of the time they mean no harm, just staying in their puny villages and harvesting sugar by the pounds, but just one of them had to journey away from home.

  
 "Döran," his sister pipes up, leaning in a chair, a metal mug in her hand "Do you have any plans? You have been gone for most of the day."

  
 "Indeed, boss, you doin' anything scandalous? Getting home so late?" Druzak laughs in his raspy voice, sticking his tongue out, deep red in colour and not unlike a snake's.

  
 "I've probably been making more progress than you _muck-spouts_."

  
 "Ooo, my brother's busting out the real _mean_ slurs tonight, boys." Urbokh laughs, her wings stretching out behind her, brushing against a wall.

  
 "Morons." Döran sighs "No, I have no new plans. I'm not even sure where they've gone after leaving Crow's Perch." He places his hands behind his back, making his way to the edge of his cot. He peels his black and silver armour from his body, one piece at a time, feeling some parts of him ache. "Wouldn't Novigrad make sense?" Finuek asks, turning in his chair to face Döran.

  
 "Novigrad? We're talking about three Elves and a fairy. They wouldn't even _think_ of Novigrad."

  
 "But, that's why I think they would have gone there. They're smarter than you think, Döran."

  
 "Elves being smart, that's a good one." He lies back on his cot, suddenly feeling relaxed.

  
 "Listen to me for once. You're going to get nowhere thinking like that-"

  
 "Can we _please_ save this for morning?! I'd like to fuckin' _sleep_!" Androg flips a thin blanket off of himself and hucks a pillow in the direction of Finuek, nailing him in the legs. In response, Döran turns on his side, facing the wall, happy to postpone anything that would keep him from sleep. He hears Finuek sigh heavily, but that's the last thing he hears.

  
\--

  
 "A scryer? I thought scrying wasn't real. You expect this lady to look into some shiny ball and tell us where the Elf girl is?" Druzak whispers, hoping to be out of earshot of the scryer. Döran remains quiet for a moment, gazing at the woman before hissing at Druzak. "She's a _friend_. And yes, scrying is real. Gods, of all the things for you to doubt..."

  
 "But will she know where the Elf is?" 

  
 "Keep pestering me and I'll have your head on a pike before we find out." Druzak shrinks back, a snarl on his face. The scar over his nose crinkled as Döran maintained a scowl towards him.

  
 The scryer sets up a large crystal sphere on a table in the barracks, which were empty for the time being. She pushes here hair back over her shoulders, and breathes deeply. She stretches her fingers over the surface of the crystal and speaks quielty yet clearly, pulsing her magic towards the sphere and asking about the Elf girl. She knows very little about her, and with only a vague desription of her, sets out her work. It's like a maze. She has to navigate in and out of magic responses she finds. She does this for well over an hour, finding nothing. It was abnormal. She leans back from the ball and debates the possibilities. One explanation was that the girl was dead, but she found that unlikely. Though, nothing was telling her she was alive. Of course, there was another explanation, that her magic was hidden, and searching for it was hopeless unless she could identify the magic signal that was encompassing it. She thought it would be easy. If a Source used its magic, she would practically be able to _smell_ it. She would feel its charcoal residue in the air from any part of the world. She wraps the crystal ball in a square of fabric and puts it in her bag, preparing herself to tell Döran the bad news.

  
 She knocks on the door, surprised the rough wood slab didn't give her a splinter. Döran calls her in, tense as always, but especially now. He grows more concerned as the scryer stays quiet, hand tightly gripping the strap of her bag that crossed her chest. Döran raises his brows expectantly. "I had no luck in locating her." Döran seemed to have been expecting this, as he slowly leans back in his chair.

  
 "Did you try looking for the others? The Fae? The other Witchers?" She shook her head "They all appear to be hidden. Unless I know what magic it is that's supressing or hiding theirs, it's hopeless." Döran sighs, tapping his fingers on the table "Very well, you can leave. Thank you, Etiona." She turns and leaves without another word, unknowingly leaving Döran seething. He _knew_ there was no way for him to get into Novigrad. The soldiers there outnumbered them 20:1 and possibly more. He scowls at the dirt ground, he should have some kind of plan by now. He was a _Gargoyle_. He was _born_ for war, but with this Source girl, it was likely to be a larger challenge than war had ever been to him.

  
 His attention was drawn by his quarter's door opening. Androg entered, sword held at his side. He raises the dark grey metal behind his back and drops it into his sheath, not so much as flinching as the weight threatened to budge him. "Have you seen Urbokh?" Döran asks him immediately. "She's with the archers." Androg passes Döran and picks up a metal mug, he swirls the contents then shrugs, downing what little liquid was there. Döran stands and wordlessly exits the building. The archers practiced across the camp, mostly on each other, as a moving target would keep one's abilities sharp. Though, when Döran  approached, they all stiffened, and stood as straight as the arrows they fired. He waved his hand, signalling for them to return to their training as he spotted his sister, gazing down at them from the top of the wall that surrounded the perimeter of their camp. He stretches out his wings and bats them twice. He raises from the ground with a heavy _whump_ that echoed around him, and lands successfully on the pointed tips of the wall. "Hello, brother." Urbokh greeted with a smile, though it was jagged due to the fangs that jutted from her lower jaw, one whole and one broken. "We need to lure them out of Novigrad."

  
 "And how will we do that?" Döran situated his foot between two wooden points and answered, "They're Witchers. I'm sure it will be easy. We set up a camp just outside of Novigrad, terrorize a few of the citizens, then wait. The citizens will report the attack, put out a notice that they're looking for a Witcher, and they come looking for _us_." Urbokh thinks for a moment, eyebrows furrowing and creasing her forehead, then flashes a quick smile in disbelief. "You're not usually one for a lay and wait kind of attack." She says, bemused.

  
 "Well, I find that may be our best option. And the safest."

  
 "Safest? What have you been drinking?" Urbokh crosses her arms over her chest.

  
 "I've not been drinking anything. After how many we lost in Crow's Perch, I think we should take a less forward approach this time."

  
 "How many did we lose?"

  
 "Ten, possibly more."

  
 "That's not so bad."

  
 "Do you want it to be worse?"

  
 "Of course not."  
 

Döran hums "I want to leave with half the soldiers within three days. I'll sketch out the plans. You make sure the soldiers are ready at any moment."

  
 Urbokh smirks "They always are, under your command. Will I be going with you?"  
 

"Obviously."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha looks like Glanni's spell did work  
> also gargoyles no don't go to novigrad they're totally not there


End file.
